#so I think most people watched it only for austin

[theamazingmaddyas]

I dunno what sparked this in my mind, but I was thinking about TV shows like Little Big Shots or Ellen that interview child prodigies at something, and thought "demigods at interviews" and thus this was born. Part 1, including all the Apollo kids (including Octavian, Georgie, and Hal) and the Seven, plus Nico and Reyna. Will probably make a part 2 with just as many characters lol.

Lee

I feel like Lee would end up on a show like that at around five or six doing slam poetry. He feels like a slam poet to me, and an amazing one at that. They put him on stage with a mic and he whips up the most heartwrenching poem known to man that leaves the audience shocked....

Michael

Trick shots in archery. The people who can shoot with their feet while doing a hand stand? That's Michael. He'd be on the older side, probably around 10 to 12, definitely after he started camp, and it started as 100% a joke in the cabin that came to reality. You can see Chiron in the audience as his guardian.

Will

Something medical. He could probably name every bone in the body, all the systems in the body, and has extreme medical knowledge no little kid could have. The audience freaks out when his mother's mentioned though (back on my super famous Naomi kick). He'd probably be like 4 or 5.

Kayla

Canada doesn't have a LBS but according to my research some Canadian kids went on in the US, so she'd be on that version.

Archery obviously. She probably picked up a bow at like 2 with her father (saying this as someone who started at age 4 with a bow so big I needed my father to help me pull it back), and obviously was a prodigy. She'd've been like 5 or 6, and her aim and percision is impeccable.

Austin

This one is also obvious. Saxophone. He was probably like one or two years old (while LBS is 3+ from my research, Austin is an anomoly and should be treated as such. That or he goes on on his third birthday), with his customized saxophone Latricia's school helped fund for when the noticed him gravitating towards the saxes, and absolutely captured the heart of America with his tiny little cornrows and suit that Latricia dressed him up in that his video is still among the most popular, and a lot of his youtube followers come from a repost he did of that ten years later when he started youtube at like 11 or 12 (or 13).

Jerry

According to my research, UK had a season of Little Big Shots with a different host, because I had to make sure this worked before I made it.

He'd definitely be for something musically related. I hc one of his powers is the ability to recall any song he's heard before, so I think that's what he'd be on for. Like a version of Beat Shazam! but with just Jerry and the British LBS host. He'd probably be like seven or eight, I'd say.

Yan

Hong Kong doesn't have it's own version of LBS, but I know the US version had some international kids with child translators, so she'd probably go on with a translator but try to speak a little English at like the age of 5 or 6 on a trip to the US.

As for what? I think they'd go on for something instrumental as well; I was thinking piano or organ. I hc they're good at poetry, but I dunno if they'd take a kid who does poetry not in English for the show. It's not as universal as music.

Gracie

I hc her as competing in biathlon (skiing and shooting), so definitely that. Since, according to my biathlon research (the internet definitely thinks I wanna join biathlon now but I can't even ski) you have to be older to compete (you need to be 22 for the Olympics), she'd probably be around ten or eleven, which from what I gathered is around the youngest you can start learning. As for how she'd be able to show this off at a show? I dunno, maybe a video of her doing it on a ski slope as she explains the basics of biathlon? I dunno, I only watched like 3 episodes of season 1 when it came out before it bruised my really fragile ego too much.

Octavian

Octavian's only talent is sacrificing teddy bears. Imagine turning on LBS only to see a little six year old perfectly replicating ancient roman sacrificial rituals on his toy teddy bear? I'd be actually terrified.

I'm still going to say his talent has to do with roman culture, probably his extreme knowledge of it being raised by legacies in New Rome. Then he'd bring up sacrifices and Steve Harvey's genuinely terrified of this scrawny pale six year old.

Hal

Obviously Hal's like 60 during The Diary of Luke Castellan and there's nothing like LBS when he was a kid because then modern time wouldn't be modern, you know? But there was definitely a newspaper article when he was a kid that says "Young Boy saves girl from certain death!" or something to that degree. So, his prophesy powers.

Georgina

Her drawings. Everyone's slightly concerned about what she says, but her drawings are oddly good for an eight year old (actually I'd say she'd be like 4 or 5), so everyone lets it slide cause she's cute and pretty articulate when it comes to describing her artwork.

Leo

MATH! Leo canonically does college level calculus at the age of 8. He's one of those super computers where Steve Harvey'll give him an insane math problem and he'd answer in like ten seconds and Steve has a calculator and drops it when he realizes this like six or seven year old's right.

Annabeth

Architecture of course. LBS would show buildings or monuments and Annabeth would say what it was, it's location, the year it was built, and some fun facts about it. Steve Harvey definitely said, "I've never seen this building in my life!" and five or six year old Annabeth giggled so hard.

Percy

Swimming, duh. Like Gracie's they probably just have a video because they are not getting a pool, but little Percy is a speed demon in the water, and it's great. Honestly very impressive to see a four year old do butterfly stroke in an olympic sized pool. I'd probably change the channel.

Hazel

Again, no LBS in 1940s, and the US was ages 3-12, so it doesn't work when she comes back either, so Hazel just gets a news article about her ability to find jewels anywhere. "Louisiana girl has found more jewels than you have in your entire life!" Or something like that.

Frank

(See Kayla's on Canada, and anyway Vancouvers like so much closer to Hollywood than NY is)

Frank's a toss up. I wanted to say spelling because Frank Spelling Bee champ has a special place in my heart (I never made it past the first round in my classroom), but spelling is a pretty common thing and I dunno if he could spell like pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis or something like that (thank you copy and paste) at like 7 or 8.

So I'm going back to basics and he's doing archery like Kayla and Michael (though not trick shots). Little 8 yo Frank talks extremely eloquently and emphazes the importance of practice, and the show surprises him with his mother coming home from active duty in the military and the clip of Frank screaming, "Mommy" while running towards Emily and sobbing is among one of the most watched clips with Austin's.

Jason

Probably fencing (well technically sword fighting, but you can't really have that on TV with a like 3 of 4 year old, can you?). Imagine a baby Jason dueling Steve Harvey after he beats up some dummies. Peak.

Piper

Piper's not going on the show. Her father signed her up, probably for something fashion related, but I'm not sure (she can surf well, but I doubt Tristan would put her down for that) but when they tried to film her she scream and screamed and ended up biting a producer so she was cut from the show. It was on the news for weeks after someone in the audience leaked that Tristan McLean's daughter was supposed to preform on Little Big Shots but ended up being so rowdy they couldn't film. She was probably 5 or 6.

Nico

Mythology specialist, of course.

He actually could go on LBS because he joins modern day at age 10, so that's how old he was. They show him pictures of Greek/Roman gods and he rambles off their Greek and Roman names, as well as their domains.

He also brings up the goddess Bia at the beginning and says she's one of his favorites because his nickname for his big sister is Bia, and the camera pans to Bianca sitting in the audience next to Alecto, and the world eats that up.

Reyna

Reyna would go on at 3 or 4 (and a 10/11 yo Hylla's her translator because I just feel in my bones Hylla learned English really young and I dunno why) with some form of martial arts, I think, not sure which one exactly, but I can see a little 3 yo Reyna in Puerto Rico competing in kids taekwando. But Reyna ends up being more well known by how articulate and intelligent she is. Steve Harvey asks Hylla "Did she really say that?" at least four times because he thought Hylla was embellishing Reyna's words, but nope, that actually is the most accurate translation.

People who speak Spanish absolutely adore her.

Will I make a part 2? Probably. I had too much fun with this.

[jewishbarbies]

the way that brendan fraser has won every best actor award that he went up against austin butler for because he’s an amazing actor and austin was just one of the Hot White Men of the moment

[shockercoco]

Unconventional Confessions

Austin Butler x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, fingering/fingering in front of mirror, dirty talk, squirting, oh no he's hot!

Word count - 1759

a/n - It took me 30 minutes to choose a gif and I’m still not happy with it lol. Here's the winner of the poll so I hope you enjoy :)

“So, did you enjoy it?” Austin asks you over the commotion in the theater.

Austin had brought you as his date to the premiere of Dune, a new movie he had a part in. As soon as the credits began rolling, everyone in the audience stood up to applaud the performance of the cast members, including you. Although, your applause was targeted more towards Austin and his performance.

You walked into the movie not expecting to find your boyfriend’s character attractive, like you have in the past with his other roles. After all, he played a pale, bald psychotic sadist with black teeth – someone that most people would be disgusted by. 

Not you, though, because as soon as Feyd came on screen you were drawn in, not just because of how good he looked shirtless, but from his strange and deviant behavior. The way he dragged his tongue against his blade, how unsympathetic he was for human life, how he laughed and drooled in the face of danger all weirdly had an affect on you.

 You noticed this when you felt your insides turn, and when you glanced down at your lap you saw that you had unconsciously crossed your legs. You knew how much Austin takes his career seriously and how easily it was for him to immerse himself into his roles, but you never expected this from him.

“I loved it. The sound, the acting, the cinematography – it was all amazing,” you smile as you turn to look up at him. You’ve always had a love for film, and Austin knew this and loved that about you.

A smile forms on Austin’s face at your response as he leans down to hug you and to place a quick kiss on your lips.

The ride back to the hotel was long due to New York traffic, but Austin decided to take this time to pull up the partition and put you into his lap and kiss you. He always did this in the car after an event or party, and each time you would tell him no, given the fact it was dangerous to not have your seatbelt on, but you always end up caving in the end.

You decide to take a shower when you arrive back at the hotel, not only to get clean, but to calm your nerves. After you get out and begin your skin care, Austin enters the bathroom and wraps his arms around you from behind, placing his chin atop your head.

“I know I already asked you if you liked the movie, but what did you think of me?” he asks as he looks at you through the mirror. Austin would always overthink when it came to his acting and would come to you for reassurance.

“You were great, just like you always are,” you tell him as you continue on with your routine.

He groans and gives your hips a squeeze. “Come on, you gotta give me more than that.”

You smile at him through the mirror. “I really enjoyed your performance, given the fact you’ve never done anything like that. You were unrecognizable, and not just because of the makeup,” you laughed,” Your deduction really paid off.”

You watch as Austin beams at your response. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Anything else?” he asks you.

Yes, yes there is.

“Well, I may or may not have found Feyd attractive, even though he’s mentally unstable. Too bad we won’t see him in the next movie.” you fake sadness towards the end. You talk casually as if what you said was minor.

You watch as Austin lights up and lifts his head. He raises his eyebrows with a smirk. “Is that right?”

“Mhm,” you nod your head, “it just sucks that you’re not him.”

And you guess that set him off because next thing you know he’s pulling you even closer into him as he places soft kisses on your neck. You laugh and playfully try to shove him off, but Austin just laughs into your ear and continues as one his hands begins to slowly travel south. When you feel his hand reach the waistband of your pajama shorts you freeze. You look at Austin through the mirror to see that his gaze is already on you, a sly smile showing on his face.

“If you couldn’t tell, I’m a little busy right now,” you joke.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account. Just pretend I’m not even here,” he says without taking his eyes away from yours. You stare back at him for a second before starting the last step of your routine – brushing your teeth. Austin keeps his focus on your face.

Just as you were reaching for your toothbrush, his hand dips inside your shorts and stops when his fingers reach your clit over your underwear. You tightly grip the toothbrush in your hand when you feel his fingers start to lightly rub circles into you through the fabric. You can already feel yourself getting wet from the teasing, warmth pooling in your lower half. As you reach for the toothpaste, he adds more pressure to your clit, and you clench your teeth to keep the sounds in your throat from escaping.

Austin smirks to himself once he notices the tension in your jaw, which you feel as it forms on his lips that are still attached to your neck. When you reach for the toothpaste, he begins to glide his fingers up and down your slit through your underwear, feeling the damp fabric.

As you begin to squeeze the toothpaste on your toothbrush, you feel Austin’s hand quickly dip inside the waistband of your underwear and collect your arousal on his fingers before spreading it through your folds. This time you can’t stop the moan from escaping your lips as your mouth falls open.

“I said don’t stop,” he whispers into your ear and ends the sentence with a kiss behind your ear, causing a shiver to make its way through your body. You look at him in the mirror to see his eyes still on you, feeling another wave of heat run through your body from the eye contact.

You go to squeeze the toothpaste on your toothbrush only to feel Austin shove a finger into your opening. You have to brace yourself against the counter as you feel your walls welcome him in, but Austin keeps his finger still inside of you, waiting for you to continue. 

When you lift the toothbrush to your lips with an unsteady hand, he pushes a second finger into you. Another moan leaves your mouth as you feel yourself stretch around him, and once you feel his fingers move inside you, you immediately drop the toothbrush and toothbrush for it to land in the sink. There’s no way you can carry on now.

Austin laughs at your reaction and continues to thrust his fingers inside of you as he finally lifts his head away from the crease of your neck to fully watch your facial expressions. He gradually increases the speed of his fingers and tightly wraps his unoccupied arm around your waist when you begin to squirm against his front. You feel his hard length against your backside, turning you on even more, but your main focus is the fingers pushing in and out of you with persistence.

You place one hand back on the counter and use the other to cling onto the arm around your waist. You feel your head drop and your eyes squeeze shut as whines fall out of your mouth, but Austin isn’t a fan of this. He removes the arm from your waist and grips your chin, forcing you to look up.

“Keep your eyes open,” he says, and you whine at his words. 

“Austin-” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Keep your eyes open.”

You pry your eyes open and look at the hand moving in your shorts. Austin gives your chin another squeeze and pushes it up for you to look at him through the mirror. He smirks at your present state, and if it wasn’t for him currently pleasing you, you would slap that smirk off his face. He knows you hate prolonged eye contact.

“You fall apart so easily, don’t you?” he asks, and you weren’t aware he wanted you to answer until he repeats, “don’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathe out.

His fingers arrive at that special spongy spot inside of you, making your body jerk and your jaw go slack. He continuously hits the area with precision as he curls his fingers into you. His arm finds its place around your waist again once you start to writhe against him. You squeal as he speeds his fingers up even more, causing wet squelches to fall out of your soaked cunt, the sound echoing in your ears.

You feel the pressure in your quickly building up, and you close your eyes again – it’s taking too much energy to continue holding them open. This time Austin lets you. One of your hands moves down towards his wrist, but he quickly grabs it and holds against you as his arm wraps around you once again. Your thighs squeeze together as the pressure becomes too much and you come closer and closer to your climax, but this doesn’t stop him.

Austin feels your walls tighten and flutter around his fingers, and he does everything to make you fall over the edge. You let out a silent cry as your orgasm makes its way through your limbs.

He continues to push his fingers in and out of you to prolong your pleasure, and you let out a cry as you feel a gush of liquid fall out of you. It soaks your underwear and shorts as it makes its way down your leg. Austin still doesn’t let up on his pace so you go to squeeze his wrist, and he begins to slow his movements.

When he finally stops, he pulls his fingers out of you and brings them up to his mouth to suck the taste of you off. Despite your energy being drained, you still manage to roll your eyes at him.

“Come on, sweetheart, round two in the bedroom. You need to lay down, your legs must be tired from standing,” he smirks and gives you a wink as he backs away from you and heads out the bathroom.

You grab the tube of toothpaste from the sink and chuck it at his head, but you miss, making Austin laugh.

[allbark-no-bite]

don’t write checks you can’t cash.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 3.6k)

summary: jake seresin is under your skin. or maybe you’re under his. either way you’re going to eat each other alive. jake isn’t about to take the fall

warnings: mentioned age gap, heavy sexual tension (the smut is coming i promise)

author’s note: back on my topgun bullshit bitches (respectfully). i’m not usually one for multi part fics but i actually wrote something with plot for once so please just bear with me. loosely inspired by Zach Bryan’s ‘nineball’. please note this fic title is subject to change bc i hate it

(you can read part 2 here!)

————————————————————————

You don't believe in love at first sight. You think the whole concept is some foolish idea that people who have already fallen in love have the liberty of saying they believe in. Then people who have been through failed relationship after failed relationship are convinced that they're never going to fall in love because it just doesn't happen. The whole idea pretty much just sets the rest of the population up for failure from the start.

Even the concept of finding the right person one day and growing to love them is hard for you to grasp. Because how can you love someone that much? How do you know you love them enough?There are some days that you don't enjoy the presence of even your closest friends for very long, friends who you would do anything for. Even family, you only tolerated so much.

Your high school boyfriend hated that about you, the fact that you realistically needed so little of him—or anyone for that matter. You have always been violently independent, able to provide what you require, and therefore having to maintain a simplistic relationship became nothing but a monotonous task. Even most of your closest friendships faded with time.

Eventually, you prosed the question: what can someone else give me that I cannot give myself?

The answer was companionship. Because when you strip away everything from a person and all they have left to offer you is themself, you have to be willing to choose them. And sometimes that's not the most appealing quality.

Something did happen, the first time you made eye contact with Lt. Jake Seresin, but it was far from love. It was something terrible in your chest, like an aching. Like you knew in your gut that he was going to change your life. Good or bad, you didn't know, but it was certain to happen.

You don't even believe that you two were destined to meet — you just happened to, and in that moment, the damage was done, it was your fate to ruin each other.

——

You like the way he says your name. You like that he says your name on purpose, like he is intentionally seeking out reasons to say it. It's not as harsh sounding coming from his mouth.

"You from around here, [L/n]?"

You're wiping down the glass hatch of your F/A-18 when he approaches you from behind. You swivel your head to catch sight of him behind your back but he's already making a wide circle around you, his chin tipping up then down as he inspects your plane from behind his tinted aviators.

As you watch him scrutinize your aircraft, you regard him with a certain level of apprehension. Jake Seresin was nothing short of gorgeous. He was six feet of bronze skin and lean muscle, withbright green eyes, and a movie star smile. Not to mention the southern accent that had girls drooling over him.

"Austin," you correct him. "Austin, Texas."

You'd been transferred over to Miramar a little over a month ago, becoming the newest addition to the Dagger squad. California was a nice change of scenery, and everyone you had met so far had welcomed you with open arms. That is, everyone but Lt. Seresin— Hangman as they called him. You were still trying to find your footing with him.

You genuinely don't know what his problem is with you. The guy had hardly even given you a glance since the moment you'd arrived. Your first guess would have been that he was one of those dickheads who didn't like women working in the field, but his relationship with Phoenix disproved that theory.

Your answer seems to warrant his attention, and he looks up. His expression twitches at the correction but he doesn't say anything in response. For the first time since you arrived at Miramar, still, unsmiling green eyes catch yours from across the aircraft.

You hold his gaze. After a moment, your stomach twists in an unsettling way, like even it doesn't know what to do with itself. Your first instinct is to look away. Your brain is telling you that if you do, you can avoid any sort of confrontation that may happen as a result. But it's like you can't.

This is the first time he's looked at you, and now you don't dare to look away.

Even from behind the tint of his perfectly polished aviators, you can make out the distinct color of his green eyes. They're so distracting that you have to remind yourself to breathe.

After what feels like eons of uncomfortable staring, he breaks your gaze —surely it couldn't have been longer than a few seconds. Flustered, you glance around to see if anyone else has picked up on the affair. Fortunately, or unfortunately, you're not quite sure which, it's nearing 6pm and the base is on the better side of empty. It's a Friday evening and everyone is eager to head out for the weekend.

Someone clears their throat. Hangman is still standing there, hands shoved in his pockets like he doesn't have anywhere better to be. You want to say something but your gut is telling you that there's some sort of game going on here and you're not sure of the rules.

Finally, he faintly nods his head, as if to excuse himself, and turns to walk away. You watch his retreating back and relax a little, breathing a bit easier.

As you're turning back to your plane, relieved that the interaction is over, you hear him call back over his shoulder.

“The team is heading to the Hard Deck at nine. Don't be late."

And then he's gone, disappeared between one of the hangars.

——

For nine thirty on a Friday evening, the bar isn't nearly as busy as you'd expected it to be. You don't have to fight for a parking spot out front and there's not even a line at the bar. Other than a rowdy looking gaggle accumulating at the pool table, the atmosphere is pretty laid back. Looking around as you walk further in, there is a handful of people in civilians, but the majority of the crowd is composed of off duty aviators in their summer khakis.

You're about to head over to the bar top, where you were sure you had spotted Captain Mitchell, when someone shouts your name.

"Hawk!"

Your head swivels at the sound of your callsign, and you catch sight of Rooster beckoning to you over at the pool table. Immediately you recognize the familiar faces of the Dagger squad around him. You acknowledge him with a smile and head over to join them.

“And here we thought you were going to be a no-show," the brunette pilot chirps, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as soon as you're close enough. You lean into his embrace while touching his chest with a friendly pat of your hand. Bradley is by no means close to drunk but most definitely more than a little buzzed if you're going off of the smell of beer and lime on his breath and the occasional involuntary twitch of his mustache.

"I thought about it, but I can't keep letting you guys have all the fun," you laugh, holding out your other arm so that you can greet Natasha with a hug as Rooster releases you.

After hugging you, she presses a sweating bottle of beer into your hand. "Coyote bought everyone a round so I figured I'd save you one before the boys wiped them out. Sorry if it's a bit warm, you did show up fashionably late."

You playfully roll your eyes at her, taking the beer anyhow. "Thanks, Phe."

Payback places a large palm on the top of your head, diverting your attention towards him as he returns from the bar. "Don't let her fool you, we're just getting started over here. Rooster isn't even drunk enough to get on the piano yet."

Laughing, you glance over at the brunette aviator. "Now that I've been waiting to see. I hear you're quite the show, Bradshaw."

Since you transferred over to Miramar, you had been hounded nonstop to go out drinking with the team for weeks, and Rooster's infamous performance had been one of their key selling points. That and the fact that the owner, Penny, often gave them free drinks. Apparently she had a thing for Captain Mitchell.

Rooster grins, leaning against the pool stick in his hand as he waits for Fanboy to take his shot. "Let me get a couple more beers deep and I promise you won't be disappointed."

As you go about making your rounds to greet everyone else, you can't help but notice that there's someone missing. After you take a seat beside Bob to watch Rooster and Fanboy play, you glance around the bar a few times, convinced that you've somehow overlooked him despite the fact that the place isn't busy enough for that.

An almost disappointed feeling pulls at you despite how ridiculous the realization makes you feel.

After spending the better part of an half hour trying to push the feeling away, you finally spot a familiar head of blonde hair over at the dartboard. He's by himself, about three darts in and half a bottle of beer down. So much for the personal invitation, you think.

You watch as he throws a dart, practically without so much as aiming whilst contemplating whether or not you even have it in you to muster up the courage to face those green eyes again.

Without giving yourself the chance to back down, you swallow back the rest of your now warm beer and head over.

He tosses another dart just as you reach him, and it finds itself dead center with the previous three.

"With a hand like that, you should be kicking Rooster's ass over there in pool," you say as you come to a stop behind him.

Walking away from the dartboard, Jake turns to grab his bottle of beer from the table beside you.

"I'm not much of a betting man," he huffs, leaning back against the table. The muscles of his biceps bugle distractingly against the sleeves of his uniform.

You look back over your shoulder, watching from a distance as Fanboy's cue clips the eight ball and sends it ricocheting off the sidewall. He groans, and Rooster whoops triumphantly from behind him.

"It wouldn't be much of a bet. Even with his winning streak, I think you'd give him a run for his money."

Hangman takes a sip from his bottle, mouth lingering on the rim before he sets it back down and crosses his arms. "Rooster's all luck and no skill. The table's got a lean."

You raise your eyebrows at the confession, half laughing at his lax confidence. "Oh? And you would know this how?"

"C'mon, son. Fuckin' hit it in."

Body tense, his arm quivers ever so slightly and the pool stick bobs shakily in his hand. He closes his eyes and takes a breath in.

"I haven't got all day, kid."

He breathes out and breathes back in. The smell of cigar smoke and cheap beer swims in his head.

"What're you doin'?! Quit wastin' time."

He exhales, opens his eyes, and hits the pool stick forward. The white cue ball shoots out to the left, bounces against the eight ball, and sends it hurdling towards the side pocket. At the very last moment, it veers off to the left and falls into  the back corner pocket instead.

The man standing on the other side of the table curses, his pool stick dropping to the ground, but Jake pays little mind to him. He straightens, looking around eagerly for the only set of eyes that matter. The grin falls from his face when he realizes the old man isn't even watching, too busy counting out his prize money and yanking out a ten to hand to the bartender.

Jake looks up at the clock on the wall over his shoulder.

12:57 am

"Dad, I wanna go home."

"Not yet, son. I've already got fifty put down on another round."

"Want me to show you?"

His offer makes you pause, and you can't help but cock your head a bit as you try to weigh out just where this is heading. For weeks he has acted as though you barely even existed and now you're engaged in the longest conversion the two of you have had since your arrival.

Jake finishes his drink and sets the bottle down whilst walking over to you. "Final offer. Take it or leave it."

You laugh a little before stepping back so that he can make his way to the pool table. "Lead the way then." But before you can make it too far, his palm finds the flat of your back, pressing you forward so that you're in front of him. You're glad he can't see you because your face flashes hot at the unexpected contact.

"I'm not the one playing, kid. I'm just going to show you the ropes."

"Oh, I didn't-"

Any objections you have about the situation are ignored as he pushes you firmly in the direction of the pool table and asks Payback for his cue. "Look alive, Bradshaw. Hawk is about to show you how this thing is done."

Straightening his wide shoulders, Bradley grins, smug and easy as you and Hangman approach the opposite side of the table. "And here I thought you were here to reclaim your throne now that I'm intoxicated."

Jake grins back. "You don't need to be drunk for me to do that."

Bradley's mustache twitches, but he's still smiling. "Sure."

Jake turns back to you, placing the pool stick in your hand. You can't help but think that his expression is all too confident for someone who has never even seen you play pool.

"Nervous?" he asks as you take the stick from him.

"Should I be?" you ask back, turning your head to watch as Rooster takes the liberty of breaking the rack.

He shakes his head, his green eyes glowing with a warmth that you've yet to see from him. "Not as long as you don't totally suck."

Seeing that it's your turn, you brush past him to stand at the table. "I guess I'll let you be the judge of that."

Thankfully you've played your fair share of pool and so you're able to hold your own for most of the game. Jake remains criminally silent as you play, arms once again crossed as he leans against a nearby stool, but you can feel his gaze burning into your back the entire time. It isn't until the end of the game and you've missed the same ball multiple times that he steps in.

"Shift left," he directs you. When you glance over at him, he nods his head as if to insinuate where you should move but doesn't move from where he's planted himself since the beginning of the game.

Hesitantly, you shuffle over a half step and take the shot. The ball comes closer than you have been but still hits the sidewall just short of the pocket. You huff in frustration, and Rooster steps forward to take his turn, sinking his second to last ball in the same pocket.

"I hope you're ready to buy the next round, Seresin. Looks like Hawk is losing her nerve," Bradley goads, unable to keep himself from boasting a little at your expense. When it comes to Hangman, he can't resist the chance to taunt him.

You roll your eyes at his comment, not bothered so much by it as compared to the fact that you're losing. When it's your turn again, you line up the ball and lean down to assume your position when Jake stops you.

All the sudden he's right beside you, palm pressing into your hip to scoot you to the side. "Move over." When you look at him like he's crazy, he huffs. "C'mon, do you want my help or not?"

It isn't so much of a question as it is a statement and the press of his hand against your side doesn't leave you much of an option and so you shuffle over to the far right side of the pool table.

Before you can even comprehend what's going on, he's leant over you, his impossibly tall frame pressed to your back so that he can reach around you and guide your hands. One wraps around your hand on the stick and the other cups your opposite elbow.

It takes everything in you not to jerk away, overwhelmed by his sudden proximity. Instead you try to focus on controlling your hammering heart and pray he can't tell how clammy your palms suddenly are.

"Hey, that's not allowed," Rooster complains. "Is that allowed?"

Coyote shrugs. "It's not not allowed."

Distracted by their bickering, his voice in your ear nearly makes you jump. "Hit the cue ball. Hard."

The lean press of his body is almost enough to distract you from the fact that he's done a god awful job of lining up the shot. There's not one alternate reality where you make this shot.

"You can't be serious."

He's so close that you feel him smile beside your ear. "Dead."

"Any day now," Rooster prompts, as if you aren't aware that Jake Seresin has been pressed against you for an uncomfortably long amount of time. And if Hangman has noticed the fact that your heart is fluttering erratically inside your chest or that your skin is flushed hot to the touch, he doesn't let on. 

"I'm waiting," he reminds you, his voice placid in your ear.

Against your better judgement, you take the shot.

The white cue ball hurtles into the black eight ball with a hard clack and sends it flying across the table. It smashes against the sidewall, exactly as you had expected it to, and you release a breath of defeat. And then something unexpected happens. The ball slows, but instead of bouncing to a stop, it continues to roll left across the table. You all watch as it rolls directly into back corner pocket of the table.

"Well I'll be damned," Payback mutters aloud.

"Hell yeah, [L/n]!" Phoenix shouts, her loud and robust voice ringing out across the bar. "Shots are on Bradshaw!"

"Thanks buddy," Coyote laughs, teasingly grabbing the back of the brunette aviator's shoulders as he heads off for the bar.

Bradley waves them off, looking a bit miffed but still good naturedly accepting his defeat.

"How about it? You're a cold blooded killer."

Like a bucket of ice water being dumped over your head, the sound of Hangman's voice coming from behind you jerks you back to reality. You haven't even noticed that he'd stepped away. Something inside you twinges at the loss of his body pressed against yours.

You turn around to face him, your brain still trying to comprehend what just happened.

"How'd you do that?" you ask incredulously, your tone almost accusing. A deeper part of you wants to ask 'why did you do that' but the smile on his face stops you.

His top row of pearly white teeth that you glimpse is pristine, however brief, before his pink lips come back together in a more subdued smile. It's an expression that is so very genuine and carefree that it sends a spark straight through to your heart. You've never seen him actually smile before, and especially not at you.

"You're smiling," you accuse before you can stop the words from coming out of your mouth, half giddy at the discovery yourself.

Jake looks slightly away, turning his head briefly in order to suppress his smile before looking back to you. “Yeah? So?” His green eyes are twinkling as he says it, like he knows he’s been caught.

You jab the short end of the pool stick into the center of his chest, but he’s quick to grab it before it can find home.

“Up until yesterday, you could barely stand to even look at me,” you say.

He bites the inside of his cheek. “That’s not true.”

“So you’re saying that I’m seeing things.” You try to tug back on the pool stick but Hangman doesn’t release it.

“I’m saying you shouldn’t be seeing things.”

With that, a larger portion of the previous smile is gone from his face, a more sober look replacing it.

Just like that the spark fades. Even though you want to shut down, turn your back to his face and just walk away. You force yourself to keep talking, holding your voice steady. “I don’t think I’m following you.”

Inside you know exactly what he means.

His eyes flicker up over your shoulder but the Dagger squad has already moved on to crowd around Rooster at the piano.

You clamp your jaw together as he releases the pool cue and crosses his arms in front of his chest. It makes him look more relaxed than he is.

"Look, whatever this is—whatever you think I am, I'm not." He says this with the realistic conviction of someone who knows that even if it is, you can't. He says it like he’s trying to convince himself.

You’re not quite sure how old he is—barely thirty if you had to guess— but he’s older. Too old. Not to mention fraternization is deeply frowned upon.

"I know," you answer firmly. Because you do. Because even if it isn't, you want it, whatever it is.

He stares down at you with those green eyes, his pupils pinpoint sharp. After a moment he heaves a sigh and releases it, nodding his head. “So we’re in agreement?”

“Yeah,” you answer. “We’re in agreement.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

[lowtaperfeyd]

What about a feyd x reader in a lower house on the rise? Like they have a strong lime of the voice but few resources/ titles. The baron knows this and works out a marriage alliance he just needed to see which nephew would get reader and after rabans failure feyd comes out on top.

Monochromatic

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Reader

warnings: mentions of killing, blood, wounds, dune stuff, but still overall kinda fluffy

author's note: never realized that austin butlers head was so pointy

wc: 2357

The baron was shrugged over in his giant vat of oily black liquid. The room was dark, stuffy, and full of tension

“Piter,” he rasped. 

“Yes my lord?” Piter De Vries said, seemingly coming out of the shadows. 

“The (L/N)’s? Did they agree?”

“Yes, sire”

The Baron let out a malicious snicker.

“Who should they go to, Piter?” the Baron said with untimely humor. 

“Both of your nephews have potential…” he said, leaving something out. 

“But?”

“Feyd’s destructive, we can’t have him break your most valuable asset. Rabban is too easy to walk on, too emotional. They aren’t dumb, they'll see. Let your nephews sweat it out, make the decision at the end.” 

“A challenge, a competition,” he murmured, sneering. “Very good, Piter.”

He said before submerging under the crude oil

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Father, you cannot allow this!” (Y/N) shouted. 

“The Baron is making us a very good deal!” He yelled back. 

“A very good deal for him!”

“What are you implying?” He interrogated 

“He only wants to benefit himself.” They retorted. “And besides, you don’t know which one I’m marrying! Do you want your child to marry a tyrant who instills terror in people or a coldblooded killer who finds pleasure in it!” 

Silence cut through the room like a sharpened knife and thick tension poured from the wound. It still wielded and ready to slash again. 

“I want what’s best.” their father said through gritted teeth. 

(Y/N) looked at their father one more time. Feelings of betrayal and anger ran through their body. Their fists clenched like iron and knees locked a dungeon door. There was no saving from this damned situation. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a couple of weeks since (Y/N) had arrived at the Harkonnen homeworld, Geidi Prime. None of the servants looked them in the eye, or in fact looked at them without trepidation. They had no encounter with Rabban because of his earlier departure to Arrakis to begin his duties and they were very careful to not cross paths with Feyd-Rautha. 

As (Y/N) was strolling through the bland walls of the Harkonnen Fortress, the sounds of clanging metal and grunting became more and more apparent. As they creeped closer, they noticed it was the Baron’s nephew, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. Who was training with a man wearing an entirely black uniform and an upside down hat that looked like an archaic hammerhead shark. They stood against a nearby dark gray pillar, partially covered by it.  

A gladiator, an entertainer, a killer, a man who killed his own mother, and surprisingly a man who bleeds. They thought.

Suddenly, the clangs stopped.

“Why are you watching me?” he questioned, annoyed.  

(Y/N) rushed to take refuge from behind the pillar, hoping that Feyd-Rautha would think he was going crazy. Their breath sped up as panic flowed freely. 

Feyd-Rautha turned around fully, looking head on at the pillar. His eyes were dark, darker than they had ever seen before, and filled with a never ending fire of irritation. 

“Why are you hiding from me?” his tone changed from annoyance to ridiculing. He bared his teeth in a smile as he began stalking toward them, knife in hand.

Courage surged through (Y/N) as they abandoned their relative safety. 

“I wasn’t hiding” they declared, their voice still uneasy. “I just went behind the pillar.” Feyd-Rautha continued to approach them, with mile length strides, getting so close to (Y/N) he could most likely hear their heart beating out their chest. He raised his knife to their neck and swirled it with no pressure, barely on them. 

He ran his black tongue against his pale lips. (Y/N) maintained eye contact. Their eyes cold to match his. Just as quickly as he placed his knife on their neck, he swiftly removed it. There was a glint of mischief and entertainment in his eyes as he turned away from them with no words.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Mother, 

It has been 5 months since my departure from home. I miss you as well as everyone else. Besides the fact I’m exceptionally alone, it has all been well.  The costumes are foreign and the people are either scared into submission or as cut-throat as the Harkonnen family. 

I have only exchanged correspondence with Count Glossu Rabban, the governor of Arrakis. His actions on Arrakis are devolving into idiocracy and foolishness as he has been terrorized by the ever mysterious Maud’Dib, desert mouse. I only know this because he whines in his letters. I’ve come to my own conclusion that some soldiers think it's a death sentence to be sent there, others the greatest honor. 

On the other hand, Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha is insane Feyd-Rautha. He only fights drugged opponents and toys with them like a cat with a mouse. He threatens slaves and servants with them being eaten by his ‘darlings’, a group of three cannibalistic harpies. Who are equally as terrifying as him. They all have beady black eyes and sharp black teeth to match. Whilst they always sneer, I seem to be on the receiving end of most of them. It’s not a satisfying feeling. 

I’ve received no further word on which nephew I am marrying. It seems like a sick twisted game the Baron is playing. In my time here I have been the butt of many reiterations of ‘time will time’ in a way that reeks of some form of schadenfreude, taking pleasure in my displeasure of not knowing. The nephews seem to have their own opinions on the matter, in other words they both think it will be them. I have heard from Rabban’s letters that he thinks that since he is currently ruling a planet that he should have a wife by his side. Feyd has taken a different approach. Due to the nature of why I am here, I have been witness to many of the gladiatorial events put on by the Baron for Feyd-Rautha. After every victory, he raises his bloodied knife and faces the Imperial Box filled by the Baron, me, Piter de Vries, and others. While this all seems very normal, he makes direct and stern eye contact with me and statues, like I’m already his. This could be easily interpreted as he is just doing this in the general direction of the Box, but if you have felt the full force of his eyes, then you know when they're on you. 

This was very prevalent at his birthday celebration fight. Though the overarching weight felt heavier and more severe in the grand scheme of things. 

He often speaks of his fights and other things. It’s all very Harkonnen.

I'll update you later,

Love,

(Y/N)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Looking out the tall window, (Y/N) saw the pollution outside of Geidi Prime. Smoke stacks covered more of the skyline than skyscrapers. It was dulled by the black sun which gave the whole planet a depressed atmosphere. Occasionally there would be a firework that looked like drops of black ink for pens. 

Softly heavy footsteps began to slinked forward towards them. Footsteps that could have only belonged to one person. 

“You don't have a very grand palace for such nobility” They declared, still looking out the window. 

“It's grand by Harkonnen standards.” Feyd-Rautha replied, smoothly. 

“What I’m saying is where I’m from, the spires from clock towers reach the clouds and beige brick is the backdrop of green ivy and creeping vines” (Y/N) recovered. 

“I didn’t mean to offend or insult your planet and home.” 

Feyd-Rautha walked forward his hands behind his back and it was almost like he was walking playfully. He took a place next to them to look out the window, his head slightly swooped down. 

“It's very,” he started, “monochromatic.”

“I mean, it makes sense from the sun,” they mentioned, “cancels everything out.” 

“More or less.” 

They stood there for a while, watching the ink drop fireworks light up the sky. A comfortable silence eased over them, as crackles were heard above. It was one of the pleasantest conversions they'd had together since (Y/N) arrival. 

Feyd-Rautha cleared his throat. 

“Tell me about your home world.” Feyd-Rautha asked.

“My home world?”

Feyd gave them a slight nod.

“Well,” they breathed out, “the air is much clearer than here and there are fields of tall green grass that is littered with yellow flowers, dandelions, which make the valley smell a little sweet. Crystal water with white beaches, multicolored ships across the horizon, and a gentle breeze from the water.”

“That sounds nice” he admitted quietly, 

“It is, it’s very nice.”

“You must miss it very dearly.”

“I do,” they said, partially, “the people can be very annoying.” 

Feyd let out a small chuckle at their brash words. 

“I can agree with that.” 

“Oh no, Na-Baron thinks his own people are annoying.” (Y/N) teased. 

“Sometimes.” 

It was now their turn to laugh. (Y/N) let out a chuckle and a smile at his honesty. 

“Be careful,” Feyd joked, “I could have you fed to my pets.” 

“Who would you marry me if I wasn’t here?” (Y/N) feigned concern.

“Don't worry, I would keep your pretty face to marry.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“For such a skilled fighter, you are a clumsy man.” 

“He snuck up on me-”

“‘While I was fighting the other one, lighty cut my arm, before I heroically killed him. Yes Feyd, it's as if you have told me a hundred times.” They retorted. 

The gash along his bicep was skinny and long. Dried blood encased the outside of the wound. (Y/N) took a damp cloth and began to carefully clean the wound. Their eyebrows were furrowed together with concentration. Every so often they dipped the cloth back into the pot of warm water. Feyd looked at them as they worked diligently. For such a tense man, he was relaxed. He leaned back against the firm arm chair he was sitting in and his hands weren’t clenched.  Shortly, they finished cleaning the wound and began walking to the other side of the room to grab a roll of bandages. 

“I think you may have missed a spot, my dear.” Feyd poked fun at them, while they were walking away. 

“Don’t start with me right now, Feyd-Rautha.” (Y/N) asserted as they walked back to his side. They took a seat on the small stool beside him and began wrapping the wound tightly. 

“It may scar. But knowing you it could just make you look scarier to your opponents.”

Feyd softly hummed in agreement. 

“There, all done.” (Y/N) said as they finished wrapping his injury. Quickly, they gathered all the equipment they used and put it away so that a mess wouldn’t need to be cleaned up later. 

“You know if it wasn’t for me you would still be bleeding” They said mischievously 

Feyd got up from his chair and began to slowly walk towards them. 

(Y/N)’s back was turned against him as they put the cloth into a basket. 

“It would be quite a sight to see the petrifying Na-Baron say than!-’

Before they could finish their sentence, Feyd wrapped an arm around their waist, turned them around, and kissed them passionately. Their teeth clashed against each other while their lips molded together. The kiss was unbreakable while simultaneously free. It was like the energy between them was alive and breathing as they were. Feyd pulled away from the kiss, both of them breathless.

“Thank you,” he breathed out, “thank you very much.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As (Y/N) was walking through the barren halls of the Harkonnen fortress, a negative cloud seemed to linger overhead. A cloud that could even bring concern and freight to the toughest of Sardaukar. Before they knew it they were in front of the menacing doors that belonged to the grand dining room that was mainly used for state occasions. Beside the doors were two Harkonnen slaves who seemed to be waiting for (Y/N) to ask for the doors to be opened. 

They gestured to the door, indicating to them to open it. 

When the doors opened, a long, dark, wooden table filled with enough food to feed the planet twice ove, lit candelabras, and elaborate centerpieces filled with dark florals. Baron Harkonnen sat at the head of the table, scarving done plates of food with little care one after another. Feyd-Rautha sat to the right of his uncle with hawk-like eyes pointed at (Y/N) while the Baron was still consuming. 

They took a small step forward to fully stand in the room and announce their presence. 

“Baron Harkonnen, Na-Baron, you wanted to see me?” they stated

The baron finally looked up from his food. 

“Ah yes come here,” he said in a voice he would use for close relatives and gestured for them to take a seat, “come here don’t be shy.” 

(Y/N) plodded down the side of the table to sit to the left of the Baron and opposite Feyd. Feyd’s face was carved by the candlelit shadows. There was a reminisce of a smirk on his lips and in his eyes. 

“Now,” the Baron started with food in his mouth, “there is quite a bit of news that needs to be shared-” 

“Exciting news.” Feyd cut in.

“Yes, very exciting,” he said, swallowing, “first and foremost, the governorship of Arrakis has been taken from Rabban.”

“Oh dear.” (Y/N) said flatly, 

“And?” they asked the Baron.

Instead of the Baron answering their question, his nephew shot in. 

“I am to marry you.” 

“Yes, as my nephew blatantly said, you are to be his wife. And accompany him to Arrakis.”

Dumbfounded, (Y/N) contemplated what just played out before them. 

“I understand the part about me marrying Na-Baron.”  They affirmed, “But why would we go to Arrakis. 

“Well due to Rabban’s failure as governor, it is only right that the title gets passed to Feyd.” 

“I’m marrying Feyd and then we will go to Arrakis.”

“Now you have it.” the Baron replied triumphantly. 

As if in a flash, more color seemed to be added to the world of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen and his soon to be spouse, (Y/N). 

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Ok! Thanks.

Could you write a story where you and Charles are dating but nobody knows about it because you're a F1 journalist and are afraid to lose your job. On one race, Ferrari fucks him up and you have to interview him after it. You thought he would be mad but instead you saw a sad and disappointed Charles and his eyes and body movement were kinda begging for a kiss and a hug but you knew you couldn't do anything at that moment and your heart couldn't handle seeing him like that. But when you get to the hotel you are all his.

Just Hold Me - Charles Leclerc

<word count - 1824>

A/N - This is Austin minus the DSQ because I could not handle that OK enjoy!

The media room wasn't fun at the best of times, let alone at the beginning of a race while you waited for the five red lights to go out. But, that didn't matter, since you adored your job. You got to live your dream, whilst travelling all over the world and to the most beautiful countries.

You travelled more in a year than some people did in their entire lives, and that was a privilege that you were unbelievably grateful to have. Whether it be the sunkissed sands of Australia, the glittering Monaco Marina, or the festival feel of Mexico, you were always in a beautiful part of the world. 

It truly was your dream, and you were able to share it with the most unlikely of people. Athletes and celebrities alike didn't tend to like the press or interviewers. Journalists like you were paid to poke into their lives and ask pressing questions on air. 

But, Charles Leclerc had unexpectedly taken quite a liking to the one Sky Sports F1 interviewer who he talked to after every race. Throughout the whole of the 2022 season, he looked forward to those post-race interviews. Yes, last season had been going a lot better than this season, and there were many more positive things to talk about, but he still enjoyed the few moments spent with you. 

During the summer break, Charles had reached out to you after you had run into him in Monaco one day. He offered to do an interview about what he was getting up to over the weeks off, and your journalistic heart couldn't say no. 

The pair of you had met up at a cafe, but no interview was conducted. You spent your time talking and getting to know each other better. You had talked to him numerous times, but only ever for those 5 minutes or less after a race.

He had disguised your next meet up a few days later as another opportunity to actually get your interview done, but it never came into fruition. You saw right through him, but never said anything. You quickly fell head over heels for the dashing driver just like he had for you, but you had agreed to keep your relationship secret. 

It could have put your job in jeopardy, since your boss might think you would ask more favourable questions to Charles, or relinquish honesty in your articles in an effort to make him look good. There was also the added pressure of possibly being asked to write about his personal life, or what he's like behind the scenes just for a few extra clicks on those web articles. 

As you were thinking about him, Charles just so happened to pop up on the screen as they showed him, sat in his car, on pole position. Charles' statistics in regards to him being on pole were less than flattering, but you had every faith in him.

It was times like these, as you watched him in his shining scarlet car, that you wished you could have been sat in the Ferrari garage, just like he had asked you to so many times. 'Just tell them it's for one of your articles or something' Charles would say whenever you declined. 

If you sat in Ferrari one day, you would have to sit in every other garage. Also, there were people out there who would jump to accuse you of dishonest journalism, and that was something you prided yourself on avoiding. Being indicted of being bribed by Ferrari for information was the last thing you needed.

As the race progressed, it was looking more and more dismal. They had tried to put Charles on a one stop, but he was the only one who stuck to it when everyone else had abandoned the spur of the moment idea for longevity on track.

It didn't help that he had been jumped at the start by Lando, but he could have pulled it back if his tyres weren't dying a slow, painful death. He sounded less than impressed when they asked him to let Carlos by, and it wasn't a good sign when he said they should 'Talk after the race'.

To pin the nail in the coffin, they asked him to come in to change the tyres. You couldn't show any emotion, or cheer him on from where you were sitting. You just had to remain silently seething. You couldn't help but chuckle as he yelled that that would 'fuck up his race' and he just wanted to try. 

That was something you admired about Charles. He always tried, even when things were tough like they were right now. When he crossed the line in fifth, you couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Fifth wasn't bad by any means, but he was hoping for a podium, and so was everyone. 

You had to go and get into position, ready with your microphone in the media pen. Drivers rolled around, one by one, and your heart dropped when you saw Charles walking over. You thought he'd be angry, you thought he'd have that scowl of annoyance on his face. 

But, he just looked downright dejected. He could barely look you in the eyes as he stood there, really not in the mood to answer your questions. "Charles, you had a tough race out there. How were you initially feeling about the one-stop strategy?" You asked as he listened to your voice. 

It was soothing to him in some regards, hearing your voice could lull him into calmness for a short while. However, he wished you weren't asking those goddamn questions right now. "It sounded like a good plan, since George and Lando were on it, but we should have changed when everyone else did," he said, clearly not wanting to elaborate more than necessary. 

"How do you feel about the race as a whole?" You asked, this time he was actually making eye contact with you. As he answered, he just had that glint in his eye that was begging for a hug and a kiss, just any form of comfort that he could get. 

He didn't care that there were people everywhere, he didn't care who saw. He just wanted to fall into your embrace in search of solace. Just getting to touch you would put him at ease somewhat, but he knew it could cost you your job. Resisting the temptation was more difficult than he could have imagined, though. 

You were struggling too. The urge to wrap your arms around him and make the pain go away was becoming unbearable.  He needed you right now, but you weren't able to be there for him like you so desperately wanted to. 

While he answered your final question before George came through, your job didn't seem all that important anymore. If getting to sit in the Ferrari garage every week, and getting to be with him in public meant you lost your job, then so be it. 

Your heart ached for him, and you were struggling to remain a neutral interviewer. It was like it was being ripped out of your chest as you questioned him. Before you could break the facade and embrace him, Charles thanked you and moved on, probably going to have that aforementioned talk with Xavi. 

Later on, you arrived back at the hotel before he did and got changed into more comfortable clothes as you waited for him. After what felt like hours, the door quietly clicked open, and Charles trudged through the room.

Neither of you said a word as you stood from where you were sat on the bed, and walked up to him. He fell into your arms, clasping onto you for dear life. You ran your fingers up and down his spine as you kissed the top of his head, glad to have him with you. 

Charles was just glad to have your arms wrapped around his weary figure, feeling some of his worries melt away slightly. He had you now, and it made the stress and disappointment he felt somewhat bearable. You made a stormy day sunny for him, and his was pleased that he had found someone who could bring him that consolation.  All he wanted to do after that absolute shitbox of a race was crawl into bed, and cuddle with you. "Do you want to order room service for dinner?" You broke the silence, pulling away from him so you could look at his face. 

His cheeks were flushed, but his eyes were looking drowsy. They didn't have that usual brightess about them, the glowing joy being replaced by a tired dullness. "I'm not hungry," he mumbled, pressing his face back into the crook of your neck. You weren't too hungry either, so you decided you'd just deal with it. Charles needed you, and nothing was going to take you away from him. "How about you go and have a shower, and then we can just go to bed?" you suggested, as he nodded and hummed in confirmation. 

He reluctantly detached himself from you, walking over to the bathroom and closing the door behind him. It was time to play the waiting game one more time, but not for as long. It wasn't often you saw him this melancholy and dismal, but even then he was usually more talkative. 

Then again, he didn't need to talk to tell you how he was feeling. You could read his face and body language like a book, and it was clear he was very upset. The shower turned off, and a few moments later, the bathroom door opened and Charles emerged. 

He clambered into bed beside you, immediately wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your chest. He breathed heavily as he held himself as close to you as he possibly could. 

You hated seeing him like this, and you wished you could unfuck the fuck ups that had happened. Anything to make the pain go away. "It's OK, baby, you did amazing. There was nothing else you could have done," you reassured him, but he didn't respond. 

He simply hid his face from you, holding onto you even tighter. "You can talk to me, you know," you prompted, hoping he would open up. It might have made him feel better. "Tomorrow," he said, and you could just about see his eyes closing. 

"OK, sweetheart, I'm here if you need me. Do you want a water or anything?" You asked, looking down at him. "No, I just want you to stay here," he said, and you were happy to fulfill his request. Having to wait that long to hold him was agonizing, but you were glad to have him in your arms now. 

Maybe one day you'd be able to embrace him in the paddock, or after an interview, but that time wasn't now. Now, Charles needed you, and you would always be there for him.

A/N - Another request ticked off the list! Requests will be probably be taking a bit of time, since I will be writing the two Halloween Specials, but still feel free to drop them! I haven't gotten any Lando or Max ones... So they might be appreciated if you catch my drift. Have a wonderful day/night, and I love you 💖

|masterlist|

[cxrdycxps]

Cat and Mouse • Joel Miller

Main Masterlist • Joel Miller Masterlist

☢️ sexual assault (past) • reader’s motto is gaslight gatekeep girlboss • cocky Joel (needs a warning) • slut Joel • smut • miscommunication ☢️

This was supposed to be one part. It got away from me. I have no regrets. Part two will be up tomorrowish

Joel had a nod. It was a respectful greeting he used for a very specific set of people. He used it exclusively to acknowledge women he had fucked. Tommy had lost count of the amount of women he offered the nod to.

How he was getting away with making his way through half the population of Jackson, Tommy would never know. His brother had given the nod to nearly every single woman of an acceptable age range in town.

“Are you gonna start again once you collect them all?” Tommy asked one evening. He was trying to share a drink with his brother but Joel was like a damn bobble head with all the nodding he was doing.

“Huh?” Joel asked and Tommy only sighed, shaking his head. He took a sip of the watered down whiskey and remembered a time it was him nodding his head at all the women in down town Austin. He had no idea how Joel was able to keep up now.

Tommy was happy to have Maria now, someone to come home to at the end of the day. Someone to share everything with. He could never go back to giving away parts of himself to different women every Friday night. It was made all the better by the fact that it was Maria who chose to love him for all his faults. He didn’t get complacent with her love, he worked for it every single day.

While Tommy was driven to distraction thinking of his wife Joel had found a new target. Tommy watched him lock eyes on you and shook his head, pulling his brother back down into his seat. “Not her.”

“Not her? Why not her?” Joel asked in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed. He looked back to you again and Tommy could see the allure. The tight jeans stole all the attention in the room, your laugh was like a sirens call. But Tommy couldn’t allow it.

“Not up for debate. You can fuck every single woman in town but her. She’s not an option. You’re not allowed.” Tommy didn’t explain his reasoning, only shook his head. Joel grinned at his brother and shook his hand off. “I’ll treat her real nice, promise.”

Tommy let him go. He thought it was personal, that you were a friend of Tommy’s or something. Tommy had never even gotten close and he wouldn’t dare to. You were the choice of most single men in Jackson and some not so single men. But Tommy had watched you chew every last one of them up and spit them all out.

You played with them like a bored barn cat and a field mouse. You let the run rings around you and just when they thought they’d won you deal the killing blow with one lazy swipe of a paw.

Tommy wanted to hate you. Maria had to deal with more than one bruised ego and tell them that no, embarrassing them and breaking up with them was not enough reason to kick you out of the commune.

The men knew better. You’d been doing it for the two years you’d been in Jackson, seeming to take sick pleasure in luring the men in and bringing them down a peg or two. Tommy could only thank the god above you never went near the married men or he knew there would be hell to pay from the possessive wives of Jackson.

You seemed to have some morals, atleast.

Well, that wasn’t exactly fair either. Tommy knew some of what happened to you before Jackson. How the men had treated you in your last camp. They had done much worse than a little embarrassment and ego checking.

Tommy watched you turn into the tap on your shoulder from Joel as he played the polite southern gentleman, just trying to squeeze by to get some drinks. You weren’t fooled, Tommy could tell, even if Joel couldn’t.

And so the game began.

///

“Pardon me, ma’am.” You looked over your shoulder to find Tommy Miller’s brother with an almost bashful look on his face, his hand retreating from where he had tapped your shoulder. “You mind if I squeeze in?”

You blinked at him before smiling demurely, moving a step back so he could reach the bar and gesture to Seth for a drink. You shared a look with Lou, your friend that you had been drinking with, over his shoulder and she shook her head with a laugh and turned away. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Well with good southern manners like that and a Texan twang you can’t be anyone other than Tommy’s-” You paused to look him up and down slowly. “Big brother?”

“You’re gonna tell me Tommy’s got manners?” Joel asked with a laugh, accepting his drink from Seth and leaning an elbow on the bar.

“Nah but I’m sure one of you had to have them.” You told him, smiling when he laughed. You were jostled from behind by someone heading for the bar and you pressed against Joel before backing away slowly. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart.” He was laying the accent on thick and you smiled at him, looking up from under your eyelashes. You rested one hand on his arm for balance when you were jostled again. “I don’t think we got a proper introduction. I’m Joel, Joel Miller.”

You gave him your name and stepped back to extend your hand to him. He shook it slowly before lifting it and pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand. You laughed in delight. “Oh you really are a gentleman. I thought those were extinct.”

“Endangered maybe, I don’t know about extinct.” He still held your hand, his thumb smoothing over your skin. You blinked slowly at him when a particularly rough jostle shoved you into his chest. His arm wrapped around your waist to steady you and you apologized when you caught yourself with both hands on his chest. “You wanna watch where you’re going, buddy?”

You turned in Joel’s embrace, his arm still tight around you, to find Nolan. You fought a wince knowing that this game could be over before it started if he decided to run his mouth. “It’s fine Joel.”

“It ain’t fine, he can apologize.” Joel insisted and you couldn’t quite tamp down the wince this time when Nolan looked up at you. “Right now.”

“She ain’t worth the breath of an apology.” Nolan scoffed and you bit back a laugh. You had really hurt his feelings and you hadn’t even been trying, not really. “Dirty whore.”

“Now I know you ain’t-” Joel’s chest swelled as he started to defend you and you let your laugh loose.

“Nolan, sweetie. I’m sorry that you and I didn’t work out but it ain’t my fault and I ain’t no whore.” You reminded him, your voice gentle. “I think you just had too much to drink.”

Nolan stared at you for a second, his jaw tense before he looked over your shoulder. “Yeah, that’s it. Sorry about that.”

A low whistle reminded you that you were still in Joel’s grip. He let you go when you twisted back to look at him and found his impressed smile. “Solved that a lot tamer than I woulda.” Joel told you honestly.

“Awh Nolan doesn’t mean any harm.” You told Joel and looked over your shoulder to find the man with his back to you. “Being truthful? Me and Nolan used to date. It’s hard when it doesn’t work out. Jackson is so small.”

“Yeah, I hear ya. Always bumpin’ into each other after the fact. Can’t be easy.” Joel allowed and you nodded, a small smile on your lips.

“You sound familiar with the feeling but I was under the impression that you don’t date.” You stole his glass to sip at his drink and he raised his eyebrows both at your comment and your cheek. “We women talk, Mr Miller.”

“Well, like you said. It gets messy. And I don’t like mess.” He admitted, waving at Seth for another drink. You smiled and tipped your head back, finishing his drink.

“I quite like messy.” You told him, catching Lou’s eye where she was lingering off to the side. “Pity you don’t. Cause I don’t do one night stands. Nice talking to you, Joel.”

“Wait, what?” Joel asked when you grabbed your purse from the bar stool. He looked from the empty glass you placed on the bar to your back as you walked away, arm linked with Lou.

Seth rested Joel’s drink on the counter and he took it, ignoring the chuckling bar man. He found his seat beside Tommy again and watched his brother try to hide his smile. “Count yourself lucky. That’s easier than the other men get off.”

“That’s the problem, Tommy.” Joel finished his drink in one swallow. “There wasn’t any getting off. But I’ll change that. She’s sweet, real sweet.”

“She’s gonna chew you up and spit you out, big brother.” Tommy assured him with a laugh. “But someone’s gotta bring you down a peg.”

///

You heard him before you saw him. The thin walls of the greenhouses held no secrets. A fact that a lot of people forgot when they wanted to go gossiping.

Joel Miller wasn’t gossiping though. He was looking for you, asking Betty where you might be found. He had gone as far to check up on your rotation to find you today. That seemed like someone who would play your game.

You didn’t look up when Betty sent him in your direction, picking the strawberries carefully. You were splitting them between baskets, trying to be fair with the size and number distributions. He paused on the threshold but you only hummed under your breath, turning away to grab several more baskets to fill. He cleared his throat and you made yourself jump a little, spinning around to face him.

“My God, Joel.” You huffed, a hand on your chest. He was grinning at you, proud to have caught you unaware. “I was in a world of my own. Make a little noise next time.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, sweetheart.” He leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re not an easy woman to track down.”

“Is that so?” You asked him, turning to face him. You leaned back against the work bench, your hands behind your back. “What’s got you tracking me?”

“Can’t a man be neighborly?” He asked, an eyebrow raised and you laughed. He straightened up from the door way and you were in awe of his size, how his broad shoulders filled the space. “Making sure you’re doing alright after putting Nolan in his place the other night?”

“I ain’t worried about Nolan and we ain’t neighbors, Mr Miller.” You reminded him and he looked slightly abashed to have been called out so thoroughly. You wanted to cup his red cheeks and coo at his embarrassment. A big man like Joel, he’d hate that he liked you doing it too.

“If a man was looking to get a little messy, how’d he go about it?” Joel asked and you smiled brightly as his forwardness. “Asking for a friend, of course.”

“Oh well, you can tell your friend that I got a three date rule.” You told Joel, turning back to pick your strawberries. “I like to be wined and dined, not rushed out the back door the following morning.”

“And if he’s got a kid that can’t know. Can that wining and dining be discreet?” Joel asked and you shrugged, turning with a basket of strawberries in your hand.

“If your friend wants to come and cook me dinner in my home, away from prying eyes, I wouldn’t complain.” You told him, holding the strawberries out to him. “For your friend.”

“I’ll be sure to pass all’a that on to him.” Joel tipped his head at you, that infuriating nod he gave all the other women in town.

“Don’t nod at me like that. I ain’t a sure thing and I ain’t your conquest.” You huffed, annoyed you had already given him the strawberries. “You can tell your friend he better try harder than you do.”

“Yes ma’am.” Joel sounded properly chastised but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking up at him when he left with a muttered thanks for the strawberries.

You released a breath and smiled to yourself as you finished with the strawberries. He was such an adorable man for the sheer size of him. So quick to apologize when he was in the wrong too. It was endearing.

///

“Fancy seeing you here.” Joel looked up from the basket of blueberries he was examining closely. “Those blueberries hurt your feelings or somethin’?”

“Ellie doesn’t like them too soft.” He explained and you stepped closer to him, looking over the baskets of berries. You selected one and passed it to him. “Thank you.”

“I know how she feels. It’s kind of gross when they turn to mush.” You admitted, lifting a bundle of wild garlic and checking each leaf. “Friday evening. I finish work at seven, by the way.”

“Seven?” Joel asked, his interest moving from the open collar of your blouse to your face. He didn’t look embarrassed to be caught looking.

“If your friend is still looking to get messy.” You prompted and he blinked, nodding his head slowly. You reached for a red bell pepper and turned it over in your hand. “I mean, if he’s up for it.”

“Up for it?” Joel asked, reaching over you to pick a bell pepper of his own. He didn’t bother examining it, tossing it into his basket. You sighed and pulled it back out, tilting it over to show him where it had gone soft.

“Some men aren’t up to the challenge of having to actually get to know someone. Especially when there’s no promise, or even chance, of sex at the end of the night.” You explained while picking a separate pepper and handing it to him. He copied your inspection this time before placing it in his basket.

“I can hold a conversation. Just because I only usually spend one night, doesn’t mean it ain’t a damn good night. You won’t be the first woman I’ve wined and dined.” Joel huffed and you raised your eyebrows.

“You really know how to make a girl feel special.” You huffed, turning on your heel. You checked in with the stall owner and let them check off the food you were taking, ignoring Joel’s attempt to get your attention. The market was too crowded for him to navigate it as quickly as you had.

Joel was left staring after you feeling wrong footed again. He wasn’t sure how he managed to always mess it up with you. Saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, doing the wrong thing when things were going so good.

He sighed and returned to the stalls, looking over the produce in search of something inspirational enough for dinner with you on Friday. If he was even welcome at this point.

Joel didn’t avoid dating for the mess if it ended badly. He didn’t date cause he hadn’t dated anyone since he was sixteen. Fucking was easy. Dating was complicated.

He stared at the uninspired fruit and vegetables and shook his head, turning on his heel and leaving that decision for later in the week.

///

“Come now,” Tommy sighed, leaning back on your porch with a glass of lemonade in hand. He was regretting agreeing to be on landscaping duty this summer. He was getting too damn old for that old push lawnmower. “He’s not a bad guy. You could just cancel on him.”

“I ain’t cancelling on him.” You shook your head and Tommy sighed. “It ain’t really any of your business either. Joel and I are both consenting adults.”

“He doesn’t know what you’re like.” Tommy sighed and you blinked at him. He didn’t know you well enough for the way he was talking to you.

“What I’m like?” You asked, standing up from the porch swing. Tommy looked up from his spot on the porch steps. “Tell me, Tommy Miller, what am I like?”

“You treat it like a game.” Tommy sighed. You wondered if he was brave or just stupid. “You chew men up and spit ‘em out. You don’t care about hurtin’ them.”

Tommy was leaned with his head back, eyes closed to block out the sun. Like an idiot, he fell for the same complacent safety that everyone in Jackson did. You hadn’t quite gotten that lazy yet and so you could see Joel approach.

“God, Tommy.” You sighed, arms wrapped around yourself. You had yourself twisted away from the direction Joel was approaching from. “I didn’t realize you bought into all the rumors. I’m sorry, I’ll call it off with Joel if you want. I just wanted to get to know him.”

“You got no idea the things the men in this town say. I know it all.” Tommy sighed. “Just leave Joel out of it.”

“I’m sorry.” You repeated, mouth downturned. “He was nice to me, ain’t too many men been nice to me in my life. He was safe. He stood up to Nolan when he called me a whore the other day. No one ever stood up for me before.”

Tommy looked up when your voice turned thick, suspicious eyes cracked at you. Joel cleared his throat and Tommy knew instantly. You had to give it to Tommy, you liked him. He was loyal to his wife and he took no bullshit from anyone. But he wasn’t going to get in your way.

“Joel!” You put as much surprise into your voice as you could without over playing your part. “We gotta put a bell on you or somethin’.”

“Joel-” Tommy tried but his brother only shook his head, not listening.

“Listen Joel, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can have dinner on Friday.” You padded down the porch steps. You hadn’t put on actual clothes yet, enjoying a rare day off to lounge around in shorts and a camisole. You knew it was working in your favor when Joel smiled gently at you.

“You ain’t cancelling on me cause my brother is an idiot. I’m a big boy, I make my own decisions. I’ll be here Friday and you’ll eat dinner with me.” Joel insisted and you looked back at Tommy who had his jaw clenched.

“I don’t wanna cause any trouble.” You insisted, blinking up at Joel. He only shook his head, raising his hand to tuck some of your hair back. “Honestly Joel, Tommy is right. I got a bit of a reputation with the men in town. I don’t know why I can’t get it right.”

“Let me worry about Tommy.” Joel promised, a dark glance in the direction of his brother. “It’s just dinner, Sweetheart. I ain’t proposing.”

“If you’re sure? I’ll understand if you-”

“Aht. None of that. I’ll be here, with bells on if that’s what you want. Now if you don’t mind I’m gonna have some words with that brother of mine.” Joel leaned forward and kissed your cheek softly. You smiled up at him and had to shake yourself from the distraction of how gentle his lips felt against you.

“I’m working.” Tommy was sat up on the porch now, eyes narrowed at you both. You fought the urge to smirk at him, you didn’t actually want to come between the Miller men. “Got lawns to mow.”

“I’ll keep you company. Make sure you ain’t running your mouth.” You turned back to Joel with a small smile.

“You want some lemonade?” You asked him softly and he smiled down at you, nodding.

“Honey, if it’s you offerin’ I’d probably accept puddle water.” You laughed lightly, heading back for the porch where one very grouchy Tommy Miller was sitting. He narrowed his eyes at you while you passed him and only looked away when Joel cleared his throat.

You paused once you were out of sight and listened to the pair of brothers grumbling at each other.

“You mind your goddamn business. I’m a grown man, I think I’d know if I was being manipulated.” Joel snapped at Tommy who only sighed.

“You got no idea.”

///

“I gotta admit, I’m impressed.” You were sitting on the counter by your oven, watching Joel cook. Your bare heels were kicking off the cupboard doors under the counter, giving a rhythmic background noise to join the sound of bubbling from the pots. “Kind of expected you to be a microwave man.”

“I can be.” He admitted with a laugh and you smiled, staring down at the stir fry he had chosen to cook for you. He claimed it covered all the bases; light enough for the summer heat, filling if you were a vegetarian, and easy enough that getting distracted by talking to you wouldn’t ruin the meal. “Most nights I’ll have a baked potato done in the microwave.”

You wrinkled your nose at him but he only shrugged at you. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

“I’m gonna knock it. I don’t need to try it.” You laughed and hopped off the counter, heading for your drink cabinet. “Whiskey?”

“Mm, no. Check my bag there, brought you a little somethin’.” You smiled at him before ducking into the hallway where he had left his bag. Opening the zip and exposing the contents had you calling Joel’s name in delight.

You carried the bottles back into the kitchen and held them up. Joel laughed at your giddy smile when you placed one bottle down and moved to open the other one. “Where’d you find actual wine?”

“We had a patrol a couple of weeks ago into a new town. Found a couple of them.” He told you, watching as you swapped the whiskey glasses for wine ones.

“Would you like a glass now?” You offered and he nodded with a smile when you carried one over to him. “You really took me seriously.”

“Wined and dined, Sweetheart. I’m a man of my word.” You took your place alongside him again and watched him check that the noodles were cooked. He’d had to trade a day of labour in the stables for the noodles. He really had pulled out all the stops.

“Color me impressed.” You sipped at your wine and nudged his hip with your knee. “I should’ve never doubted your skills.”

“Ah, I owe you an apology for that. I ain’t treating you how I treat other women. I know this isn’t just one night.” Joel promised and you smiled softly. “I keep putting my foot in my mouth around you. Can’t think straight when it comes to you, I guess.”

“Charmer.” You rolled your eyes and hopped off the counter again. You stole both wine glasses and placed them on the table, bringing Joel the plates so he could serve up dinner.

You had set either side of the small dining room table but Joel only shook his head, moving his place setting so he was sitting at your right hand side, closer than you had put him. “How are we supposed to get to know each other from that far away?”

“It’s like a foot and a half?” You asked, eyebrows raised. He only shook his head again, settling himself in and taking a sip of his wine. You couldn’t help but laugh at him.

You hadn’t actually thought about the conversation during dinner and you had the sudden thought that it could be awkward. Joel didn’t share those sentiments, talking away about anything that entered his mind.

He was funny, which was surprising. Being hot and having a personality was a rare deal when it came to the men of Jackson. Everything about Joel surprised you. He kept your glass topped up and even washed the dishes when you both finished with the meal.

You found yourself checked up at the end of your sofa, facing Joel who was telling you about running into a giraffe living wild in Salt Lake City. You couldn’t believe him, expressing your jealousy.

“It was kind of surreal like everything I’ve seen in the last twenty five years and a giraffe is what seems the most unrealistic?” Joel laughed. You shifted against the couch cushion with a laugh and the wine in your glass spilled out and splashed your top making you gasp at the cool of it.

“Shit, sorry.” You leaned forward, pulling the fabric away from your chest and Joel held a hand out, taking your glass from you. “Gimme a second.”

You hurried up to your room, swapping your blouse for another. At the last second you paused in your doorway and swapped your blouse for a thin camisole. Another pause had you unhooking your bra and tossing it in the direction of your hamper. You admired yourself for a moment in the mirror before heading back to Joel.

He held your wine glass out to you with a gentle smile. You took the middle sofa cushion this time, moving you closer to Joel who let his eyes dip down just barely. “I’ve always been clumsy.”

“Is that right?” He asked and you nodded, finishing your glass of wine in one final swallow. “Maybe I should head out.”

“You could.” You nodded, placing your glass on your coffee table. “In fact you probably should. But I don’t want you to.”

“What do you want?” Joel asked you softly when you straightened up, inches between your faces. He was holding himself back, you could see it. Any of those other women he would’ve already pinned to the sofa and fucked them until they screamed.

“I don’t do this. I don’t do one nights.” You whispered quietly. His jaw clenched and you swallowed nervously. “It makes me feel cheap and dirty to be used like that and wake up alone in the morning.”

“What do you want? Do you want me to leave now? Because I’ll go, Sweetheart.” He promised you softly. “If you want me to stay and be here when you wake up tomorrow then I will. And I’ll come back for dinner too.”

“Awful presumptuous, Mr Miller.” You laughed, fingers twisting together in an attempt to gather your courage. “Stay?”

“Set the pace.” He whispered and his breath fanned against your lips. Your hand moved up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him closer, your lips pressing to his.

You pressed against him, shifting so that you were straddling his lap, your tongue pressing into his mouth. He pulled you to grind against him, his big hands on your hips. You couldn’t help but moaning his name against his mouth. “Feel’s so good.”

“Tell me what you want.” He groaned when you shifted in his lap, rubbing right up against him.

“Take me to bed, Joel.”

///

You groaned against you pillow and squinted against the morning sun. You hadn’t bothered to pull your curtains last night, what with Joel fucking you into the mattress and all.

The man in question was wrapped around you from behind, still asleep it seemed. Well, most of him was asleep. He was making small aborted moves with his hips, rubbing up against the small of your back.

You shifted against him, turning in his grip to tap at his cheek gently. He shook his head and burrowed into your neck before freezing. You ran your fingers through his hair and scratched at his scalp. “Morning.”

He grunted something that sounded like a good morning and you slid your hand down between you both, circling him in your hand. He pulled his head back and blinked at you. “I think I might a little too sore for round two. But if this is okay?”

“More’n okay. You don’t need to though.” Joel promised and you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek, pumping your hand. The little movements he had been making had been enough to have his tip wet. You paused to lick the palm of your hand and resumed your movements. Joel groaned, head tipped back and tendons in his neck straining. “So fucking good.”

You wrapped one leg up on his hip and every time he bucked into your hand he pressed between your legs. You had no desire to let him push inside of you again but you couldn’t help the small moans Everytime he pushed through your wet slit, the head of his cock was kissing your clit.

He took control of the speed, deliberately moving so that you felt each slide of his cock, his own hand closing over yours and tightening your grip. “So wet for me, Sweetheart. Gotta treat that pussy good after all the abuse I gave it last night.”

You whined against his neck, your breath coming faster. He was hitting against you perfectly and you couldn’t remember ever feeling this good with another person before. Your free hand pressed against Joel’s chest, nails digging into his chest. “Fucking, right there, please. Please.”

“Cum for me. Come on. Cum for me.” Joel demanded and you wanted to scoff at him, the same words coming from the mouth of every man you slept with. But Joel wasn’t every man. Joel was better. You shuddered against him as your orgasm hit, your hand falling away from his cock. He took over, pumping himself through his own orgasm which splashed against your stomach.

“Fuck.” You pulled away from Joel, the heat and sweat making you grimace. You collapsed onto your back and he did the same, chest raising and falling quickly. “Good morning is right.”

“A very good morning.” He agreed with a grunt. You couldn’t help the giggles, pushing yourself out of the bed. “Where’re you going?”

“To shower while you’re making that breakfast you promised me.” You reminded him and his brow furrowed.

“I didn’t promise breakfast. In fact it’s time you make a meal.” Joel teased with a grin and you shook your head, pulling on your robe.

“You promised last night. I asked if you’d really stay the night and you said you’d make breakfast.” You reminded him and he scrunched up his face in an effort to remember and you smiled at him, leaning against your dresser.

He looked immaculate in the morning, so big and broad. His chest was covered in hair that tapered down to a trail on his stomach. He looked up and you laughed.

“You were right about to fuck me? Less than an inch away and I asked you if you would definitely be there when I woke.” You reminded him and he nodded.

“Ah yes, I would’ve promised anything to get into your pussy at that point.” He laughed and you froze in place, your smile slipping from your lips. You pulled your robe tighter around yourself and swallowed.

“Is that right?” You asked, your voice cold. “Anything to get your way, huh?”

He paused, arching his neck up to look at you again. At your expression he pushed up on his elbows and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Not like that. I didn’t mean that how it sounded.”

“I’d like you to leave. Now.” You knew what was happening. He had agreed to play the game but now he was changing the rules.

He scrambled up on the bed and got tangled in the blankets. A knock on your front door had him freezing in place. You paused too, wondering who in their right mind was at your door at this hour on a Saturday. You stared at Joel for a second before tying your robe and hurrying down the stairs.

The door swung open to find Ellie who appraised you, eyebrows raised. “Tommy said Joel would be here. I need him.”

“You can have him.” You promised her, turning to find Joel on the stairs, buttoning his shirt. “You’re needed.”

“Yeah, I heard. ” Joel said, his voice angry. Ellie looked between you both and shrugged.

“You didn’t come home. There’s a leak in the bathroom. Tommy said I’d find you here.” She explained and Joel looked at you and away again. Tommy had done enough home improvement for you to know one thing.

“Oh my god.” You looked between Ellie and Joel and felt physically sick. “You organized a bail out if you stayed the night.”

“It’s not with it looks like.” Joel promised and you scoffed, tossing his bag at him from the hallway floor.

“Get the fuck out of here. And don’t bother coming back.”

[eternal-love]

LACY

Pairing: Courtier!Austin x Queen!reader

Summary: Everyone knew about your husband’s exotic interests, specially after the son of some lord arrived at court. A boy that threatened your position.

Warning: Takes place in medieval times, power imbalance, Austin is younger than the reader, royals?, reader is an asshole to Austin, slight smut (oral fem receiving, face riding)

Note: inspired of course by Lacy by Olivia Rodrigo. This is kinda different. I hope you guys like it. Reader is obvs very inspired by Cersei Lannister, that DIVA💜

Before you became queen by marriage, your house had been the most powerful in the kingdom. Your family had ruled for centuries. Until your house was challenged at war for the throne, another house rebelled against the order of things, and unfortunately they won.

You went from being next in line to the throne, to having to marry the man that usurped it from you. You put up with it for your family. Because you wanted to keep them alive.

Years went by and you were a proper queen, one coronated as the ‘Queen of beauty and love’, you were beloved by the commoners, your husband, King Richard, not so much. He was know for being a fool, a crazy and lustful fool. You knew very well that he spent most of his time in brothels

But you got on with it, it’s not like you had much of choice. Plus, the more time you spent far away from that fool, the more time you had to educate yourself. But in the end, you were the Queen and you had to keep appearances. So that’s why you agreed to any celebrations he decided to throw on the hall.

Dressed in the best silks and jewels from the kingdom, you sat besides your King and husband. Drinking wine from a goblet as you watched your courtiers dance around. You noticed how your husband stared at a new courtier you had not seen before. It wasn’t uncommon that new high-born people came to live in the castle and you never noticed.

Your husband stared too much at the boy, your eye couldn’t help but twitch. Everyone knew about the King’s exotic interests. He liked young maidens and young boys.

He wasn’t dumb though, he knew to only fuck them in brothers. Never high-borns but this boy, he was breathtaking. That wasn’t something you could deny. You made sure your handmaidens brought him to you.

“My King, my Queen.” The young boy curtsied in front of the high table.

“Hello, summer child.” You forced out a smile, the boy was gorgeous. “My, you are a beauty What is your name.”

“Thank you, your grace.” The boy smiled at both of you. “And my name is Austin, your Grace.”

Golden hair, blue eyes, porcelain skin, those pointy ears. You could recognize those traits from miles away. The son of Lord Soltheris, from, fittingly, House Soltheris from the Vale. Gorgeous high-bornes came out that house.

“I must keep you close. It fits a queen to be surrounded by such beauties.” You said, when in reality, you already wanted to send him away. You saw the way your husband eyed the boy, it wouldn’t surprise you if you found out later on that your husband had tasted the boy.

You tried to not think much of it, maybe this time around the King would use his brain and know that it wasn’t ideal for him to fuck a young high-born.

But as days went by, you noticed that your husband seemed rather pleased to have him as new courtier, you always saw them together. It wasn’t hard to see that your husband was infatuated.

The boy spent, countless hours in your husband’s chambers. By his side during supper, on his walks by the garden. You started to get paranoid, very. It didn’t befit a Queen to be paranoid over such— boy. But he was beautiful. More beautiful than you believed yourself to be.

As you observed from afar, how the boy walked besides Richard, how he moved, how he laughed, how he dressed. In fine fabrics, you noticed a pattern in the colors he wore and you hated it. Because he used the same colors as you, as well as his clothes were often decorated with golden thread and pearls.

He was a better version of yourself, younger, fitter, even more beautiful. You remembered the words a witch once told you. You had tried to forget them, mayhaps the witch had just want to scare you. But now, the prophecy seemed to be fulfilling itself.

“You will be Queen, for a time. Then there will be another sight for sore eyes. Younger. More beautiful. One that will cast you aside and take everything and everyone you hold dear.”

Austin knew very well that you knew what he was doing with the king, it was one of the reasons why he avoided you at all cost. But there were times where he walked by your bedchamber. Specially in very inconvenient moments. You were arguing with your husband. After all, you still had more right to the throne than he did.

“Do you believe me as the true Queen and ruler?” You stood in front of him, tears pricking at your eyes. After years, you still resented the fact that a man stole your birthright.

“Why must I need jesters when I have you, my dear?” Richard laughed, shaking his head. “The throne is not something you deserve. It’s something you take.”

“How dare you.” You paced around the bedchamber, your hands toying with the fabric of your gown.

“Do you think your father named you heir because he thought you’d be fit to rule? He chose you because he was afraid of me, my family, my house. Because he knew that our legacy, unlike his own, would never be outshined. And because he knew that as long as you were heir, peace would exists and he would keep us under his thumb. He thought of you weak enough to never be able to lead a war. Because you were born a woman.”

You stared at the man. Woman. Why was that an insult? Why? You had more royal blood in your pinky finger than him in his whole body. You were pure blood and he was a bastard. Yet the only important thing was that he had a cock and you did not?

“You’re pathetic.” You muttered as you got closer to him. The King did not like to get insulted, let alone by you.

“You do know, that insulting and challenging me won’t make you grow a cock if you don’t already posses one? And perhaps if you had one, you’d be more pleasant to be around.”

You scoffed, a part of you felt hurt, but you took it in, tried to not let it get to you in front of him. But as you turned to look at the door, it was slightly open, and there you saw him. Austin.

After the argument, you made sure to make your way towards Austin’s bedchamber. You knocked on the large wooden door, to which his voice rang through.

“Yes?” He spoke, his voice sounded a bit nervous.

“Will you let me in?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“I don’t think so, your Grace.” Austin stuttered, oh, he was scared. He already knew you hated him, what stopped you from wanting to kill him?

“Do you think if I wanted you dead I would let a wooden door in my own castle, filled with my own guards, stop me?” Was this kid dumb? Dumber than you, at least he wasn’t that pleasantly blessed.

“No, your Grace.” He spoke before opening the door slowly. You made your way inside. His bedchamber although smaller than yours, was pleasantly warm.

“You must have overheard the conversation between the King and I.” You said, your eyes scanning Austin.

You hated his skin that looked like uncooked puff pastry, his wide blue eyes that looked like daisies on the spring. He looked like an angel brought back to life. You didn’t know if you wanted to have him hanged or if you wished to have him under your skirts. French kissing your cunt until you came all over his dumb and pretty face.

“It wasn’t my intention, your Grace. I swear it to you.” Austin stuttered. “I was passing by and could not help but overhear it. But I could not help but offer you my sorrows. It must be hard dealing with his Grace.”

“Really? How tolerant of you.” You said, smirking. “Dear God, you’re perfect, aren’t you? You— fuck my husband then come here and offer your condolences after he mistreats me once more.”

The color from his face disappeared as soon as you said that. It’s not like he had any saying, what the king said, went.

“It is not my saying. Believe. I cannot deny what the King says, good sister. You must know that. I did not expect that to become my role when I came here to court.” Austin was quick to come up with excuses. “You know, good sister, my mother once told me that men—“

You interrupted him harshly. “Nobody cares what your dear mother told you.”

His face fell, you only smirked even more. You looked around his chamber once more.

“Wine. You have wine?”

“It’s a bit early in the day for me to drink wine, your Grace.” Austin said, innocence in his tone. He never drank, not until supper. And even then, he drank very little.

“You annoy me. Every breath you take even in the same perimeter as me annoys me. So here’s what we will do. I want you to not even think of looking at me. And if you ever call me good sister again,” You spoke harshly, talking closer to him. “I’ll have my men rip out your tongue with their hands.”

You saw his face contort in horror. Who wouldn’t fear you? After all you were the second most powerful person in the kingdom.

Months went by and to Austin, your relationship with him was confusing. He didn’t quite understand it. He admired you, he truly did. But he found it very hard to understand if you liked him or loathed him. Sometimes he himself though he loathed your sole existence as Queen consort.

You weren’t nice to him, at least that’s not how he saw it. Your comments always masked with a silk of kindness to try and hide the venom. You were a viper dressed in fine clothing. Everyone at court was a viper.

But you could walk amongst them and not get attacked. Thats what made you even more cunning, knowing how much power you held.

But it never fulfilled you, not matter how many people were scared of you, how many power you held over a council, because all you wanted was to be respected, not feared. But being a woman, it was the only way of keeping yourself safe. Being feared.

If only you had been born a man, perhaps a civil war wouldn’t have occurred in the first place. Perhaps you would had grown to sit on the throne, wear your father’s crown in your head, rule over all kingdoms. But it would never happen. You were only left with the fear, the fear of being replaced, killed, set aside.

In the comfort of your bedchamber, you would cry while drinking wine, sometimes you would just drink wine. Stare out the high window.

One night, you drank wine in your bedchamber, your handmaidens embroidering on the floor. When the door of your bedchamber opened, your sworn guard entered, announcing a guest.

“The Lord Austin Soltheris, your Grace.” Your guard moved and there came in the blond boy. A part of you scoffed, but then, after taking another tip of wine, you spoke.

“Clear the room.” You said, your handmaidens and sworn guards left immediately, closing the door behind you. You leaned back on the chair, staring at Austin.

“Your Grace.” He bowed immediately. You chuckled softly, you weren’t tipsy, you had grown very fond of wine. It didn’t affect you as much as before.

“Sit.” You commanded him, to which he listened. God, you could stare into those blue eyes for hours.

“I thought I’d come in and look in on you, your Grace. You have not been attending supper at the great hall.”

“How— sweet of you. You’re perfect.” You mocked him. “Worrying for your queen. I must admit that not even my husband worries for my absence. Mayhaps I should tell my husband that his favorite delight has been trying to get rather close to me.”

Austin immediately shook his head. “Your grace, please. I am only trying to do what’s best for my house. I have no ill intentions nor am I trying to use the impetuousness of my youth. You must believe me.”

Oh, you stared at him horrified. You had said those exact same words once when you were forced to wed Richard. How you plead for him to see the good side of you, to know that you weren’t a threat to him.

“Let me give you an advice, summer child.” You took another sip from your goblet. “Don’t ever do that again. As now I know how desperate you are for protection. You are at my mercy, it must be difficult to keep it inside but the more people that know you’re afraid, the weaker you get. Because they know how to take advantage of you.”

You said, swirling your goblet, the wine seemed to be the less of your interests now.

“I love his grace.” He said, gulping. But it was too late to try and pretend to know what he was doing.

“You don’t fool anyone, Austin. You’re as naive as they come. I see why my husband likes you.” You said, raising your eyebrow. “You’re just like me. A pretender.”

“I don’t understand, your Grace.” Austin looked at you in concussion. Yes, he was lying about loving the King, he just wanted protection, it didn’t matter how he had to gain it. But there hadn’t been much going around with the king, the king was always too drunk anyways.

“A pretty face isn’t your only weapon, the best one is between your legs. Be proud of how you decide to use it. Drink.” You gave him your goblet. To which he took a small sip. “Not like that. Drink.”

He drank, but his eyes stayed on. Oh, how sweetly the fox moved when it’s surrounded by the hound.

The boy stared at you with such intensity, you could tell he wanted you. Which men in the kingdom did not desire to eat you like a piece of cake anyways? You understood. You were beautiful. The most beautiful woman.

A few cups of wine between you two, and a few stolen kisses, ended with Austin’s face between your legs. His tongue attacking your cunt. He had undressed you, you were completely exposed to him.

You tugged at his hair, even if that was extremely satisfying, it wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough for you. You grinded your hips a little, your left hand gripped the armrest of the chair.

“What a good boy I have.” You moaned, your voice obviously tightened. “Aren’t you a good boy?”

He hummed, his blue eyes staring up at your face. He looked pathetic, eating you out like a starved man. Like a fucking commoner or a harlot from a brothel.

You you tugged his hair and pulled him apart from your cunt, his lips plump and swollen already, his big blue eyes staring up at you.

“You’ll listen to what I say.” You said firmly.

“Yes, your Grace.” Austin nodded, his eyes made you want to fuck him. You felt as powerful as a man could feel before fucking a young maiden.

He was your young and beautiful maiden. Just for you to ruin.

You made him lay in his back on the bed, you were going to ride his face like a man rode a stallion. You positioned yourself, his nose and mouth inches away from your exposed fold, once he started tongue fucking your first, you were a different woman, you were moaning out all sorts of things. You sounded like a bitch in heat. But as you rode his face, as he grunted and grabbed your thighs, you were in complete ecstasy and you knew that God would punish you.

You were committing adultery, you were getting your lust get in your way. But right now you didn’t care, not when this felt so good.

You were reaching your peak, you had never felt this kind of pleasure.

“Just like that!” You were able to scream loudly, as you finished over his face, you were riding out your orgasm. You laid back on your bed, panting as he tried to catch his breath. Feeling guilty, he stood up immediately, pacing around.

“What have I done? I have defiled my house, my honor, my body.” He paced around, guilt ever-consuming. This was treason. “Must I confess this? Should I?”

“You won’t confess anything. You are not the first one, boy. One of the King’s squires, Sir Lance Marshall, fucked me relentlessly every night whenever I asked him to. After many nights he could not handle the guilt and confessed it to my husband. Do you know where Sir Lance Marshall is now?”

Austin gulped. How many times had he not heard about the death of one of the King’s squires. “Gone.”

“What a gentle word. I would use— slaughtered. Do you must believe that the King doesn’t like snitches.” You told him. To which he immediately froze. He did not want to be slaughtered. Not at all.

“But, my Queen. I must— I will go to hell.”

“And I will burn by your side.” You stood up and walked towards him, your hand touching his soft cheek.

“But my house. I should have not defiled my honor. I have tainted my house’s name. I am not even married. I should repent in Church and then go back—” he spoke like a terrified child, it made you laugh. But you had seen how eager he had been to please you. And you wouldn’t minds keeping him around as your delight.

“You will not do such thing. As your Queen, you are commanded to remain in court and by my side.” Your touch became much rougher, it made him whimper.

“Understood, your Grace. I promise I’ll do my best to keep you pleased.” He said softly, he sounded like a wounded puppy.

You had him at your mercy, how fun is that?

You were all smiles while you were breaking your fast with your husband, you spent night after night by the company of that stupid boy.

If you couldn’t be him, why not fuck him? It made sense in your mind. Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.

“Why are you smiling?” The King asked you as he stopped eating, he raised his eyebrow.

“Because I am happy.” You smiled as you lifted your goblet.

“Why are you happy?” This was the happiest your husband had ever seen you in a decade.

Your smile was genuine, which was suspiciously concerning. At least to him. You rarely smiled like this anymore. Only when there was any kind of interaction you despised or when you got compliments.

You smiled even wider as he asked you that. You stood up and walked to the head of the table, where he sat, you placed your goblet down, you leaned in.

“Because I have your little whore.”

The King’s face fell, there was no way you two were fucking the same exact boy. To which, you weren’t, Austin only fucked you. The King was always to drunk to remember that the boy never even touched him.

“And do remember, my King…” you took another sip of your wine. “It is only considered treason if he finishes inside.”

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 17. Jealousy

Summary: Xaden and Garrick get their squads together to train, leading to some jealousy with someone unexpected.

A/N: I'm so sorry for the long delay on Dahlia. Kinktober took priority, but we are back in full force. I wrote so many parts in the last 24 hours for this, and I can't wait for you guys to see what I'm building up to in a few parts! Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist

“I don’t know why you won’t give him a chance.” Liz says in an airy tone.

I turn to see her staring at Garrick and Xaden who have gone shirtless for their sparring warm up. And she wasn’t the only one. There were more cadets here than normal for our night training session. Since bonding dragons it seemed a lot of the first years were wanting to make sure they kept their seat. And every single girl in the room was starting at them.

I can’t help but let my eyes wander as I look over at them. Garrick was by far the most muscular guy in the quadrant. As if every muscle had been carved from stone. I shake my head in attempt to get those thoughts out of my head before turning back to watch Imogen spar with another first year.

“I won’t give him a chance, because he won’t give me a chance.” I reply bitterly.

“I mean, can you blame the guy? You’ve seen how your brother and father treat the other marked ones.” Liz murmurs, still lost in a trance as she watches them spar.

“I am not my brother and my father.” I nearly snap at her, my typical anger rising to the surface at being compared to them.

“Trust me, we know. Even if you were an angsty bitch when we first met you.” Austin teases from my other side, dodging my attempt to shove her away.

“Thanks? Not sure if that was a compliment or an insult.” I say as I narrow my eyes at her slightly.

”Let’s go with both.” Bodhi says as he walks over and joins us, Garrick and Xaden close behind him.

I keep my eyes focused on Bodhi as I jokingly glare at him, but out of the corner of my eye I feel Garrick staring at me. Ever since our interaction in the hallway I’d felt his eyes on me more. Almost as if challenging me to take the bait he’d laid out the other day. Which I was not. Yes I could admit he was attractive, especially while he stood there shirtless with his freaking muscles on full display as they glisten with a slight sheen of sweat. But even if I did get along with him, I was not becoming another notch in his bed post.

”Alright everyone, pair up with someone and start going through some weapon practice.” Xaden advises as he looks over us.

Tonight both his and Garrick’s squads were training together. Apparently a good way to broaden our training by going up against people we didn’t really know. Naturally Imogen tagged along even though she wasn’t in either squad. She made a habit of turning up whenever we were here. She kept saying it was coincidence, but I was starting to think it really wasn’t. Our squads start pairing off, Liz and Austin pairing up as if on auto pilot. They worked well together as they were a similar skill level, often complaining Bodhi and I were too difficult to go up against.

I go to follow Bodhi, but a large figure steps into my path and I’m forced to look up at Garrick. ”How about you and I pair up little Aetos?” His voice laced with a mocking tone as he looks down at me.

I roll my eyes and scoff at him. “No thanks, wouldn’t want to catch something from being too close to you.” I snap back, causing Bodhi and Imogen to snicker at my comment, Xaden’s eyes going wide as he looks between us.

”You’re just scared I’ll finally show you up.” He mocks, arms crossing over his chest as he cocks his head to the side.

An idea forms in my head. A stupid idea. And I silently hope he doesn’t follow through with it as the words leave my mouth. “If you’re so confident about that maybe you should challenge me once challenges start back up. Unless you’re scared I’ll prove you wrong again?”

Another round of snickers pick up around us, Garrick’s brow furrowing as he glares down at me. Clearly me proving him wrong all those weeks ago was still a sore spot for him, and I couldn’t help but smirk at him before pushing past him and dragging Bodhi with me.

”You know he’s going to end up doing that and he’s going to kick your ass in front of everyone?” Bodhi whispers as I lead us over to a spot on the far side of the room.

”He’s not going to kick my ass in front of everyone.” I throw back at him as I grab a sword from the weapons rack.

I turn around to see Bodhi looking at me like I’m an idiot. “Clearly you don’t know him very well, or you’re delusional on the size difference between you two.”

”And he also doesn’t know me very well.” I point out, Bodhi eyeing the sword I’m waving around cautiously as if worried I’m going to hurt him or myself with it.

”Maybe if you-”

”Nope, not happening.” I say before settling into a fighting stance.

Bodhi clearly takes it as a sign this conversation wasn’t going any further, his shoulders sagging in defeat before walking over to grab his own sword. As soon as he settles into a fighting stance I launch myself at him, Bodhi flailing to keep up with me. Each of my strikes fuelled with the hint of anger that had risen to the surface from my interaction with Garrick and words with Bodhi.

Bodhi didn’t deserve how hard I was going at him, but I needed to let out my frustrations somehow. Everyone was so adamant I give the lumbering oaf a chance. But why should I when he wouldn’t give me one? Since the day I’d walked across the parapet, he’d made up his mind about me. Had lumped me in with my brother and father without even a second thought.

Poor Bodhi is quick to succumb to my attacks, my leg kicking his out from beneath him as he falls to the floor with a loud thud as his sword clangs loudly on the ground as I point the tip of mine at his neck.

Bodhi just shakes his head and laughs. “Remind me to never piss you off again.”

”You’ll be fine.” I tease as I move my sword from his neck as I hold out my free hand to him.

He grasps his around mine before pushing off the ground to help me pull him up. Clearly still wobbly from his fall he stumbles into me as he rights himself, causing him and I to laugh at his clumsiness.

“You sure? I nearly just made a fool of myself by nearly sending us plummeting to the floor.”

”Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve made a fool of yourself.”

Bodhi laughs as he playfully shoves me away before releasing my hand and heading over to get a drink of water from his pack. As he moves my eyes fall on Garrick who hasn’t moved an inch, except to turn and look over at us. But for once his glare and eyes aren’t trained on me. They’re focused on Bodhi. And it almost looks like he wants to murder him.

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd

[jazziejax]

PR & Matchmaking

Pairing- Callum Turner x OC! India Hayes

Summary- The flirtatious banter between two co-stars that are trying to make the most of their PR contract while also wondering if what they’re felling is real or not.

Warnings- none

Author’s Note- I haven’t written anything on here in so long so please be easy one me guys. I just wanted to post something because it’s been a while and I felt like Callum Turner needed more love.

Word Count- 2,131

Lights were flashing like crazy and the people were going wild as they walked onto the carpet. Tonight was the premiere of Masters of The Air, a drama miniseries on Apple TV that explores the aerial wars of WWII through enlisted men of the Mighty Eighth Air Force.

At first, the red carpet was filled with the men from the show, some posing for the perfect shot while others did interviews to talk about the show. Though all were dapper as the cameras clicked and flashed to capture their noticeable charm. One of the stars, Callum Turner, was in the middle of answering a question after being asked what was his biggest takeaway from a show like this.

“I mean, it’s taught me a lot. More than I knew it would, which is always great. Working with such amazing people has to be the greatest takeaway—.” The sound of his words were barely audible under the screams of the crowd. His face morphed into a shell of shock for only the briefest moment before he chuckled and turned his head to see what that commotion was about. His first assumption was that it was Austin and Barry offering tons of fanservice with their flirtatious banter.

But he couldn’t have been more wrong.

He could hardly see through the flashing lights but he could discern one name through what the photographers were saying.

“India!”

“India, this way!”

Even though he wasn’t facing the camera fully, it still caught the smile that graced his lips at the sound of the woman's name. From another angle, you could see him looking down the carpet at the girl in black, staring at her figure as she posed.

Realizing he’s still on camera and was in the middle of talking, Callum chuckled as she turned back to his interviewer. “Speaking of amazing—.” He laughed along with the guy, gesturing to the woman down the carpet.

“Did you guys and the Angels of War cast get to do any work together? Can we expect to see a crossover?” The man asked before holding his mic out to Callum. Said man pursed his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I can’t say, you have to watch the show and see.” He joked.

Moments later, India was being asked her own set of questions.

“We’ve all seen Angels of War, we all loved it. It was great. But I must know what you think of Masters of the Air.” The woman asked her.

India smiled, prepared for her words to soon come bite her in the ass. “I loved it, it was so amazing and so detailed that you couldn’t help but fall in love it.” India smiled, her southern accent strong on her tongue. “I felt so connected to the characters because of such great acting.” She offered a soft smile. “But it was hard payin’ attention in some scenes because everyone was so sexy.” She laughed along with interviewer.

“Right! I’m glad you said it before I did.” The woman with the mic spoke.

“Yeah, but I’m gonna watch anything with Callum Turner in it.” India winked with a small smirk on her lips. This caused the interviewer to make a sound of excitement, knowing she just got her clip of the week. India just smiled and laughed along, knowing she was working her PR arm a little too much. But she liked riling people up, it’s why she was so loved.

“I have to agree with you, I am the same way with Henry Cavil.” The woman chuckled. Her eyes moved a tad to catch a glimpse of a tall figure dressed in black behind India’s shoulder. “And speaking of Callum Turner.” She beamed.

India turned her torso to see said man not too far from them walking somewhere along the outskirts of the red carpet, a few people straggling behind him. Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Callum glanced to his left to see India and the interviewer staring at him, the camera slightly angled his way. A large smile made its way onto his face as he walked closer.

“Callum!” India said excitedly, opening her arms in invitation. His eyes disappeared behind the folds on his cheeks as he moved to embrace the woman once he made it to her. She wrapped her arms his neck while his went to her waist. Her height and hills made it to where her head fit almost perfectly within the nook of his neck. As she moved back slightly to grab a hold of his jaw and place a firm kiss on his cheek, his hands traveled from her waist to her hips. His large hands almost sitting on top of her bottom. Since they weren’t as close to the mic as they were before, the camera couldn’t pick up on any of what was being said.

“Did you play it up before I got here?” India asked through a smile as she drug her hand from his face to his chest.

“Why yes I did, darling.” He beamed down at the girl. “And I can see you are trying to upstage me.” He said before starting to rub his hands up and down the curve of her back. The tips of his middle fingers grazing one another as they traversed the span of her waist. India then made a dramatic sad face, her large eyes never leaving his. “Oh, never that.” She cooed. “I am just trying to get us both paid.” She cheesed before turning around to finish her interview. Callum followed after her, keeping his hand around her waist.

“Sorry about that. Speak of the devil and he shall appear and all that.” India said sarcastically, nodding her head over to the man behind her. The interviewer laughed, looking between the two. “It’s so good to now have you here with us, Callum, how are you?” She asked.

“I’m doing far better now that I’ve seen her.” The man smirked, glancing down at the woman on his arm as his hand moved from her hip to lying flat on her stomach. . India dramatically rolled her eyes at him, moving to place her hand on top of his. “He’s so cheesy.” She said.

“Only for the right price.” His voice said above her head. India burst into a fit of chuckles, angling her head to look up at the man without turning around. They shared a knowing look before going back to looking at the interviewer, who was red in the face from just watching their interactions.

“Well aren’t you two quite the pair!” She exclaimed. “Are we going to be seeing your characters together any time soon? I think it’s time for Loretta to settle down.” She asked before holding out the mic.

“Well, first off, Loretta needs no man!” India said, sassily waving her finger, causing the others to chuckle. “She probably would have liked one in a time such as then but needed one? No thank you.” She joked, although her words had a seemingly undertone due to the topic of her statement. “And secondly, you’ll just have to wait and see. I wouldn’t get my hopes up though.” She shrugged.

“Well, those are all the question I had for you, thank you two so much for being here!” She said excitedly.

“No, thank you for having us.” India said before giving the woman a small hug, Callum’s hand moving to her waist as she moved. She then finished her hug and walked away with Callum on her hip.

“Do you think we’re laying it on thick?” India asked, looking up at him. Callum looked down at her, the lights reflecting of her big eyes. She had a black silk scarf on her head on the carpet, but it was no gone, along with her shades, to show her short cut. He brought his hand up to the back of her neck, playing with the small hairs there. “No, I don’t think so.” He said, his suave demeanor dropping in a second of comfortability with her. “And if so, isn’t that kind of the point?” India didn’t answer his rhetorical question, caught up in the feeling of his hands playing in her short hair.

“We have the same haircut.” She said after a moment of silence, the two just staring at each other. Callum’s blue eyes twinkled in the light as he smiled at her. “Yeah, we do.”

“Although I think mines a little better, maybe I can give you my barbers number?” He finished before walking away from her. India’s mouth dropped but wasn’t for long as she caught up to his long legs and hit him in the arms. “I cannot believe you said that. You know I look way better than you with his haircut.” She sassed, rolling her eyes at the man before walking faster than him. Callum smiled his eyes following her figure as she walked back to the red carpet, where her life long friend, Janelle, was gesturing her over on the carpet with the rest of the Angels of War cast.

India scurried over, her and Janelle standing in the middle with the other girls on the side, all posing for the camera. Callum stood off on the side, looking at them while the lights flashed behind him. His eyes were trained on India as she and Janelle exchanged words before bubbling into laughter.

After a while longer, India looked over and made eye contact with him. They both immediately smiled at each other, eyes showing nothing but pure affection. She then detached one of her arms from Janelle and beckoned him over. Callum slightly shook his head. Seeing his hesitation, her face became serious as she beckoned him over again, although her movements were a little harsher this time. He was about to reject the offer again before his shoulder jerked forward slightly. His glanced back to his Austin gesture his head over to the carpet before walking off and over to his girlfriend Janelle, although no one else knew that piece of information.

He followed after him, his eyes locked on India playfully stern ones, the rest Masters of the Air cast following behind him and Austin. Once he made it to her, her eyes softened as he slipped behind her. While they waited for everyone to settle into their places, she smiled up at him before leaning back a little, her back met his torso. Her head laid on his chest as she looked up at him with a big fake smile. Callum looked down at her, staring into the eyes he thought looked beautiful from any angle. Trapped within her gaze, he leaned down a little, the tip of his large nose brushing against her forehead as he sniffed her. India crunched her eyebrows at him before raising her head to look back at the cameras. She still had her back against him, although you couldn’t tell unless you got a side angle.

“Enough of your flirting.” Austin piped up behind his smile as he glanced over at the pair dressed in all black.

“What, are we outshining the real couple?” Callum asked, smirking over at his friend.

“Outshine?” Austin asked. “Oh, you don’t even wanna know the things I’d do if we were public.” He finished, his grip tightening on Janelle’s waist as he continued to pose for the pictures. Said woman’s face flushed as she laughed and glanced up at him. They looked at each other for the briefest of seconds before going back to their original poses.

“This whole thing is so backwards.” India scoffed with a smirk on her face as the camera flicked to catch the moment between Austin and Janelle. Callum looked down at her and placed his hand on her hip, squeezing her fat as he sensed she was getting irritated. “Oh, but you love it.” He said joked, his deep voice vibrating through the both of them. Although she didn’t look up at him, India smiled at his words. “Yeah…you got me there.” She said, but couldn’t decide whether she was serious or not.

Social media went into a complete frenzy over those two. Clips of their cute moments floating all around the internet, some “fake”, you could say and others more authentic. Stills of Callum staring at India so lovingly were all over her feed, almost sending their girl into a spiral from seeing her own face that much. Compilations of every time they interacted during the premiere had millions of views as everyone speculated what they were. People were talking about the pair for weeks, which is just what their management wanted.

Indiahayes ✓⃝

likes by austinbutler, keoghan92, and 567,842 others

indiahayes happy masters of the air day!! go watch the show full of sexy men that kiss! ;)

view 7,627 comments

janellethat no one kissed guys :(

⤷ Indiahayes hush, don’t spoil the show!

callumsnumber1gurl let’s talk about these premiere photos hun!

callumturnerburner you and Callum look soo good together!!

⤷ austinbutlerbutt you are not sneaky at all

austinbutler Angels of War sister! 🤍

⤷ Indiahayes Masters of the Air brother!🖤

anthonyboyle why are you and Nina on the furniture?

⤷ ninasimone because we’re American 🇺🇸 🦅

randosuper3 it’s times like this where I wish Callum had an instagram 😔

lovelyrando you and Callum looked amazing together and I hope what you guys have lasts long

auatinslove are we just not going to talk about Janelle and Austin? What’s going on there???

⤷ indiassuperfan7 adults being adults

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Big Brave Man

Bleeding in Moonlight: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven |

CW: Creepy whumper, reluctant whumper, dehumanization, werewolf whump, hunting runaway whumpee

-

The last half-mile of the hike back home was always the worst part. The woods were at their thickest, which helped to hide the scattered buildings hidden down a dirt road from prying eyes, but it also meant it would be so easy to get lost, drift off the hidden path, and simply never be seen again. 

Austin had been taught the signs to watch for since he first learned how to walk, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a little worried every single time that he’d miss just enough of them to end up miles off course. He’d been taught to hold on to that worry, that it was people who were cautious who made it home.

Still, he was so damn tired now.

His legs were shaking from exertion, from the miles and miles he’d spent the day walking, clambering, and climbing. Exhaustion had his eyelids feeling heavier with every blink, but Austin knew better than to think he could head off to his own small room to sleep off the last twenty four straight hours of trying to find that little shitstain Rusty. 

He wasn’t even grown - how had a juvenile been able to get away so fast? The blood trail had made it clear that he’d been hit by one of the silver bullets… how had he managed to keep running? 

He was going to be in such deep shit with Bill about this.

Distracted, Austin tripped over a tree root and swore when he nearly dropped his rifle, scrambling not to let it touch the ground. His father would have something to say about that, too. You never put down your gun, he knew that rule better than any other. 

Especially not on a full moon, when werewolves wouldn't hesitate. When they would bite and tear and claw and shred in mindless violence until their sadistic desires were satisfied. Werewolves were at their worst during the full moon.

It was the first thing Austin had learned in homeschooling, how to recognize werewolves even in human form, what to watch for, and when they were most dangerous.

Reading, writing, math, history... the rest all came once Austin knew what to be afraid of. And how to do the wolves harm before they could harm him.

Even if those warnings didn't really match the captive pack that Bill kept for his search for a cure. Even if the wolves in the kennels had never acted the way he'd been taught they should.

Bill had always claimed it was because captivity made them safer to be around, made their viciousness weaker. But... sometimes Austin wondered.

Last night had been a full moon, and Rusty had run through a camp and then found his way to a car with campers and Austin had found an empty parking spot marked with only Rusty's blood. No bodies. No bones. No vicious monster growling and snarling with red-tinged foam around his fangs.

The moon was supposed to turn them into killers.

So why hadn't Rusty killed the campers?

He was too tired to think about this.

Once he finally eased out of the woods into the first of the compound’s small cleared spaces, what hit hardest was the silence.

The moon had begun to rise, and normally the wolves would have been restless in their kennels, human and canine forms shifting back and forth in sickening ways, desperate to run out the energy that coiled through their wiry wasted muscles. He’d have heard the scraping of accidental brushes against the silver-lined fencing, the little whimpers from the younger ones, the older shushing them. He’d have heard the whispers as he walked past, the growls, the whining pleas to be allowed to hunt.

They want to hunt you, Bill had always told him. You're the prey. They play at sounding weak and scared, but they'd rip your throat out if we let them.

Still. He'd always searched for that mindless rage in their eyes, and Austin had never seen it.

Now there was nothing to see at all.

The kennels were emptied out and silent. Nothing moved in the shadows. There was no soft pattering of paws in the dirt, no yellowed eyes gleaming in the dark. 

Austin turned away before he could acknowledge the guilt that still tugged at him, a sickening pull at his insides. 

The kennels were silent, because all of the wolves were now on the other side of the barn, far enough away where hopefully the smell wouldn’t be too overpowering. The wolves were all in the pit they’d spent days digging, just to shoot the creatures they’d kept as long as Austin had been alive or longer.

That’s where the last of the gleaming yellow eyes had gone.

He wondered if any of their eyes were still open, under the dirt they'd piled on top of the bodies, and shivered. 

All his father’s hard work had faltered. There was only so much to learn, and every attempt at a cure had been fruitless. But at least, Austin thought, there wouldn’t be any more mournful howls in the darkness when they took the puppies from their mothers. At least he wouldn’t have to watch his father’s tests any longer, holding the creatures down in human or wolf form so blood could be drawn or bits cut off for Bill’s experiments. He wouldn't have to hear their screams of pain.

At least there was that.

Really, what they had done was a mercy, right? The werewolves had been miserable, and frightened, and now they were neither. It had been a mercy to give them death.

Keep telling yourself that, Austin. Whatever keeps the look on Rusty’s stupid wolf face when he dug out of the pit out of your mind, right?

Whatever helps you sleep at night.

Coward.

Not that he'd be sleeping any time soon, considering he still had to give his debrief to Bill, and he was starving hungry, too. Needed a shower. Needed to work out the nervous, jittery energy that still coiled underneath the fatigue that made each step drag a little more with every foot of distance he covered. 

Austin’s feet were barely moving by the time he made it to the house, fingers fumbling at the handle to the screen door, his boots scraping along the concrete steps. “Mom?” He called, voice heavy and husky. The moon hung full above him, and it felt absurdly like it was watching him - just one big white eyeball in the sky, all pissed off.

He cut off a half-hysterical giggle that threatened to erupt, like a volcano. God, he was so tired. He needed sleep so badly.

Wherever Rusty was, he was probably enjoying the moonlight. Gone rabid and torn out the campers' throats and rolled in their blood. Then again, maybe he’d bled out and died somewhere after he’d found those damn campers to treat him like a shelter dog.

That would make things easier, if they could just find the body.

But first they had to find the people he’d caught a ride with.

“Austin!” His mother appeared, looking as tired as he did, her hair a frizzy mess still drying from her nightly shower, already wearing her quilted flower-print robe over her nightdress. She moved to him, then wrinkled her nose and stopped, still a good couple feet away. “Oh, honey. You are absolutely filthy.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Running on pure muscle memory, he unloaded the rest of the silver bullets from the rifle, then set it into the empty spot on the racks mounted along the wall just inside the door. Next step was putting the bullets back in the special wooden box full of them, listening to the click as each one dropped back in. Minus the one he'd lodged, he thought, pretty deep in Rusty's leg.

Only then could he lean over to untie the laces to his boots. A new wave of exhaustion hit like a wall of bricks and he found himself listing to one side, knocking a shoulder into the wall. “Shit.”

“Language,” Sandra scolded automatically, without much feeling. Austin had hit adulthood years ago, and by now it was mostly just an instinct because of the younger kids. Not that any of them were still awake, not this late. “Did you find Rusty?”

Austin exhaled. 

Sandra read the answer in his face, and she sighed. “Oh, honey. Your father’s not going to like that.”

“Yeah, Mom, I know. Bill hates everything I do, though, so it shouldn’t be too different from any other day for me.” The first pulses of a headache threatened, his growing fatigue was rapidly becoming a heavy weight alongside the beat of his heart. He left his muddy boots on the mat and made his way to the fridge. He’d downed half the beer before he even thought to take a breath, rubbing a hand over the shadow of stubble that had already started to grow. “To answer your question, though… I actually did find him. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” Her eyebrows furrowed in concern and more than a little disapproval. “What does that mean, ‘sort of’? Don’t tell me you let Rusty go.”

“I’m not stupid, Mom.” Austin let his forehead drop against the cool stainless steel of the fridge, closing his eyes. If he could just sleep, this would go so much better. If he had time to plan what he would say, to think it through. “I didn’t let him go.”

“Then-”

His father’s voice came booming from another room. “Sandra? Is that Austin come back?”

“Yes!” Austin’s mother took in a breath, and gave Austin a slight smile. “Just a minute and he’ll be right in there.” She patted Austin on the arm and walked past him, heading for Bill’s office. Austin followed, a little helplessly, the pit of dread in his stomach growing step by step.

He should’ve been moved out and married by now. Why was he still here, following his father’s orders? Why did he still get worried when his dad was disappointed in him? Why had he let his father tell him none of the girls from their meetups had been right for him?

Why hadn't he just gotten into a car and driven until he ran out of gas years ago, set up a new life wherever he found himself? He used to dream about it. Join a construction crew or something, where they could pay him under the table. Get an apartment with some roommates and learn how to take care of himself.

He used to dream about it.

Now, he thought, he'd just dream about dead wolves in the dark.

He took the beer with him, and he ignored Bill’s disapproving stare when he stepped into the doorway. It was his own beer, and just because his father had stopped drinking a few years ago thanks to some revelation about God’s will or other, didn’t mean that Austin thought the same way. 

So brave, a mocking inner voice whispered. Such a big brave man, defying your father about beer while killing a dozen werewolves on his orders.

Bill’s office was all wood paneling and dim lamps, giving it the feeling of some barely-explored cave covered in piles of paper - including seemingly every receipt for every purchase he'd ever made. Alongside the boxes of paper were old leatherbound books and the mounted heads of elk, deer, regular wolves, and more lining the walls. 

Bill sat in an overstuffed leather easy chair he kept in here - Austin was pretty sure half his time spent ‘working’ in his office was actually spent napping in that damn chair. The older man’s hair and beard had long since gone mostly gray, and unlike Sandra, he wasn’t ready for bed, not yet. He was still wearing his flannel and jeans. His right hand rested on the head of the placid, pathetic creature that sat obediently next to him. Koko, a half-grown wolf with mostly gray fur tinged at the edges with the same rust-red that made up most of Rusty’s coat, was always like that - drugged to complacency, his blue human's eyes dull and barely aware of anything around him. 

He'd come from the same litter of pups as Rusty had, Austin thought. Same mother. It was hard to remember who'd been born when, it was just the wolves, after all.

Vicious fuckers. 

Are they, Austin? Or are you the monster hiding under their bed?

In this moment, it was Bill's stare that seemed far more likely to be followed up by violence.

Bill’s expression shifted into a deep frown. “I can tell just looking at you that you didn’t take care of Rusty.”

The disappointment burned - it always did - but Austin shoved it to the side. He wasn’t a little kid any longer, and he was too damn old to still feel like a boy chided for not doing the dishes after dinner. “I followed him as long as I could,” He said, keeping his voice low. He leaned against the doorway, refusing to come any closer than that, taking another drink of beer. He watched his father’s narrow eyes follow the movement of the bottle. “But then he left.”

"He what." His father's voice dropped to a depth Austin had only rarely heard before. 

Austin's fingertips burned cold, suddenly, as if he'd plunged his hand into a bucket of ice and held it until frostbite took hold. An answering chill took up heavy space in his ribs, just behind his heart. 

This is the strong brave man your father built, that inner voice mocked again. You’re as tame as Koko, just how he wants it. Even his own kids are just kept in a different kind of kennel.

"He-" Austin's voice broke, and he stopped, clearing his throat as best he could. He tried to tell himself strength impressed his father far more than kissing ass ever had. “He left with some campers. He got in a car with them. I lost the trail."

"Some campers," Bill repeated, voice flat now, stuck just one step above a growl. "You couldn’t get a shot in? What was all that training for, then? Are you so useless you can't hit the broad side of a-"

"I did!" Austin met his father’s eyes - and saw how Bill sat up a little. Austin rarely refused to lower his gaze. He almost never argued back. Hell, now that he thought about it, this might be the first time. 

But he couldn’t get the memory of the whining, howling, crying wolves out of his mind. The way they sounded, the way they moved, writhing as they died, trying to clamber over or hide under the dead bodies of the others. 

Rusty’s eyes had been ringed all in white before he’d taken off into the woods. Mad with terror, wearing blood from his pack, fleeing into the wood with the evil hunter on his heels.

That’s you, Austin. You’re the bad guy in the fairy tale. You're the monster. Big brave man chasing a frightened teenager through the woods. They make true crime shows about bastards like you.

Austin cleared his throat. Rusty wasn't human, he told himself. It wasn't the same.

It was.

It wasn't.

It was-

"I definitely shot him, Dad. Silver bullet, blood everywhere. But they bundled him into their car before I could track him all the way and the trail ended at the parking lot."

"Goddamn typical," Bill muttered. As if Austin failing was exactly what he had expected. As if he never did anything else.

“Language,” Sandra chided automatically.

Austin flushed dark with shame and a guilty anger of his own. “Dad-”

"No, Austin.” Bill sighed. His hand began to move, petting absently over Koko’s head. The wolf didn’t seem to even notice. Those clouded blue eyes weren’t seeing anything but whatever was inside Koko’s empty little head. “Don’t bother. This really is absolutely typical. I should've sent your mother, you were always a poor shadow of her skills."

"Bill, be nice," Sandra cut in, nervous herself, but Austin felt warmth at the sight of her squaring up her rounded shoulders on his behalf. "Austin’s just tired. Considering everything he'd had to do before he had to take off after Rusty-"

"Woman-" Bill tensed, as if ready to push himself out of his recliner.

When Sandra turned on him, though, he fell back, looking up at her, vaguely startled. "Oh, don't you dare 'woman' at me, or my cast iron and I will have something to say," Sandra snapped back. She stood like she was made of iron, too, arms crossed in front of her. "When have I ever let you call me 'woman', Bill, huh?"

Bill was silent for a long moment before looking uncomfortably away from her. "Never."

"Damn straight."

“Language,” Austin teased, and was rewarded with his mother’s tired smile and his father’s irritated scowl. 

“Fine. Austin... worked hard last night.” It sounded like he was confessing to a sin, just admitting his oldest son had done anything right. Austin tried to take the compliment for what it was, but still resentment festered. He was the oldest of the twelve children, and he’d spent his whole life working to help his father build the compound into what it had become. 

And yet he was always the one who fell short of his father’s expectations - not because they were too high, but because of something inside of Austin his father had simply never liked. 

Maybe he's just mad that you're only a killer against your will.

“Still,” Bill continued, voice heavy. “Still, we lost one of our wolves.”

“But only one,” Austin countered. “The rest of them are handled, Dad. We made sure. Rusty was the only survivor. Well, except for Koko.”

Koko's ear twitched, once, and those hazy blue eyes focused briefly on Austin. Austin had a thought - just the slightest impression - that there was a fathomless loathing for him in those human eyes trapped inside a canine face. A hatred that ran so deep Austin couldn't see into its depths, could never begin to understand it.

Then Koko laid heavily down on the floor, resting his chin on his paws, looking like he'd drift off at any moment. The bulky prong-collar he wore clearly pinched a little, as he winced and shifted. The hate faded into cloudy nothing again.

Bill glanced down, the first time he'd looked at the young wolf so far. "Koko barely counts. He’s a good boy.”

Where Bill couldn’t quite see, Koko’s lip lifted on one side, briefly showing fang, before his eyes drifted shut. 

Austin opened his mouth to mention to Bill that Koko maybe wasn’t quite as docile as he seemed, but Bill spoke before he could. “And we can't start fresh if one of them's out there hurting people because of you.”

“Start fresh?” The cold dread returned, but for a totally different reason now. The kennels full of crying puppies taken from their mothers, the wolves pacing and shifting and howling and whining... He couldn't do that again. Not when the silence already weighed heavier than lead. “Dad… you said this was it, that we were done.”

“Yeah, with this group. But they aren’t the only monsters out there. And we’ll figure out how to cure them eventually. I’m going to take in a new pack and start in on some new ideas I’ve had about silver particles in blood transfusions-”

“... Dad.. No.” Austin thought about having to fire on the wolves, one by one. Watching the light leave their eyes, watching their frantic fight to live. The years of his life he'd spent holding them down while his mother or father tested things on them, feeling their chests rise and fall in frantic terror while they were restrained into stillness. His stomach flipped. He had to fight bile that threatened to rise in his throat, tensing all his aching muscles to try and distract himself with the pain. “Dad, you can’t. I… I can’t do all that shit again.”

“Austin, language-”

“No, Mom! I-I’m done. I’m so… I’m so done. I can’t do this any longer.”

Bill sighed, shaking his head. But he didn’t burst out in rage, like Austin expected. It was so much worse - he just looked profoundly, deeply, painfully disappointed. “You let them get too close to you. Started seeing them as people and not what they are. I should’ve expected it. Your little brother can take over your duties, but not until we bring Rusty home or get rid of the threat.”

Austin closed his eyes. One last thing, and then he could stop having to be a part of this? That… sounded like his father throwing him a lifeline.

Big brave man doing what Daddy says because then he'll let you quit.

If he lets you quit.

He grabbed onto it with white knuckles and took a deep breath. “Fine. Okay. So, we got off track. I... I told you I tracked him to the parking lot by the trails.”

“Right.” Bill nodded, thoughtfully. “But you lost him after that."

“He clearly got into a car with some campers, probably the ones whose camp he ran through. In any case, I, uh, I called the park ranger, said we'd had some poachers on our land." Austin's voice was a little breathier than he meant it to be. 

Bill's eyebrows raised, and he gestured with one hand for Austin to keep talking. 

"He wouldn't show me the security camera, some kind of regulation, but… but he said he got a record of the license plate.”

“He gave that to you?”

“After I gave him a hundred dollars, he did. I wrote it down, so... so we can do something with that, right?"

"Did he tell you what state it was from?"

"He did. Iowa."

Bill's expression finally cracked into a rare smile. Even Sandra relaxed, and Austin felt his own aching muscles soothing, too. "Well. That we can work with. We’ll finish things with Rusty and call that your resignation from the family business. I'll give you some cash to get you started, after that. And you'll promise to call your mother once a week."

"Once a week at least," Sandra added. "I'd like a few times a week, really. Oh, and maybe you'll meet a nice girl-"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Sandra," Bill said, but he'd softened, and Austin felt hope for the first time. He tried not to acknowledge it, afraid Bill would see the way his expression changed and feel the need to smash him back down again.

He cleared his throat. "I want to go live in a city somewhere.”

“Your mother and I fled that life for a reason, but I suppose every generation has to learn about the evils of cities all on their own.” Bill sighed, shaking his head. But Austin could tell this meeting was finally about to end. His bed waited, and Austin knew he'd barely make it upstairs to collapse into it.

Bill hummed. “Have a good night’s sleep, get yourself rested, and when you wake up you should pack your things for a trip. You and me are going to go track Rusty down before anyone else gets hurt."

Austin didn’t point out that the only ones who’d gotten hurt in this were the wolves. “Fine. Just the two of us?”

“You, me… and Koko.”

Koko's eyes opened again. They rested on Austin, briefly focused with an intensity that Austin had never seen in the young wolf's face before.

It occurred to Austin that maybe Rusty wasn't the wolf who wanted to rip his throat out the most.

-

@finder-of-rings  @burtlederp @deluxewhump @scoundrelwithboba @shrimpwritings 

@yassifiedinformation @wildfaewhump @whatwhump @honeycollectswhump @tundra-tiger

@dont-look-me-in-the-eye @there-will-always-be-blood @fangedcinnamonroll @pigeonwhumps @yassifiedinformation

[slutz4fanfic]

Okay lately I’ve been in a Joel miller kick. Idk why but here we are. I’ve been thinking of writing a short little thing about Joel miller, main character’d dad is Joel’s best friend. A slow burn, angst, a more quieter main character, age gap, smut, all the goods. Here’s what I got so far…thoughts ??

The cicada hummed in the heavy Texas heat as I’m sitting on the front porch swing, my bare feet grazing the worn wood beneath me.

It’s late summer in Austin, the air is thick, carrying the scent of wildflowers and the faint tang of barbecue smoke from the cookout my father had earlier today. I can hear my father’s laughter boomed as he drinks and jokes with his oldest friend, Joel…Joel Miller.

Joel has been a constant presence in my life for as long as I can remember. Him and his daughter Sarah. He’s my dad’s best friend, partner in bad jokes and long-winded stories, Joel always had a way of commanding a room. Joel carries himself quietly, assured, rugged in a way that felt effortless. Him and dad are not only best friends but they’re business partners together. They work together doing construction/contractor type jobs.

“Honey why don’t you come inside?” My mom sticks her head out of the house calling me. “I will, Im just enjoying the late August breeze” I smile at her.

My mom has soft blonde hair, bright blue eyes, always a calming energy. My mother and I look nothing a like. I have my father’s dark curly hair, his dark brown eyes, and tan skin. But people say I have the same calming energy that my mother has. At least I got something from my mother, my mother is the most beautiful woman on this earth…but I guess I’m a bit biased.

“Alright honey don’t stay out here too late” she says before closing the front door.

I don’t only want to enjoy the late August weather, but frankly being around Joel makes my head spin. The past year I’ve developed this stupid, stupid, school girl crush on the man. I know I shouldn’t, I know how wrong it is. He’s 20 years older than me, my dad’s best friend, practically family. But it seems every time he comes around, I found myself drawn to him, my heart fluttering leaving me breathless.

His strong jawline dusted with salt and pepper scruff, his dark hair kissed by streaks of some silver. Then his voice, slow and smooth with that subtle Texas drawl that just stays in my stupid head long after he’s spoken.

The screen door creaks open causing me to glance up. Joel stepped out, a beer in hand, his worn flannel shirt rolled to his elbows. His sharp dark eyes catches mine darker ones. I can see the tired under his eyes, but he has a small lopsided grin.

“Thought I’d find you out here darlin” his voice low and warm. He leaned against the porch railing, faintest hint of a drawl curling around his words. “You always were one for the quiet”

His words make my stomach jump, the idea that Joel knows me. Knows how I think, what I like and don’t like.

Get it together Violet. It’s Joel, of course he fucking knows you. I’d tag along with him and my dad with everything since I was 7. Rides in Joel’s old pickup truck, fishing trips out by the lake, even just watching them fix whatever needed fixin’ . “Guess I like the way it feels out here” I murmur my voice soft.

Joel tipped his head a bit, his gaze feels like it’s studying me. “Can’t blame you for that. Feels like the rest of worlds a thousand miles away, doesn’t it” he sips his beer.

I nod my head, fingers curling around the edge of the swing. His intense gaze lingers and the weight of it sends a slow flush creeping up my neck.

He sank onto the swing beside me, the wood creaking under his weight. For a moment neither of us spoke, the stillness between us only filled by the cicadas.

"You're real quiet tonight" Joel's voice low. "Something on your mind?"

I glance at him,my teeth can't help catch my bottom lip thinking of my response. "Not really. Just...thinking"

"About?"

I hesitate, my fingers tracing the edge of the swing "nothing important"

I can feel him studying me again. Something he does often. He eyebrows furrowing in the process. He didn't push it, but the look in his eyes wasn't buying it. "You know you can talk to me, right kid?"

I feel my heart squeeze at his words, at the gentleness in his tone. I want to tell him everything- that I've been thinking about him for longer than I cared to admit, that my chest ached every time he smiled at me lately. But that's crazy talk, and I'd drop dead before I even think of doing such thing. 

Instead, I simply respond quietly "I know”.

Joel nodded, leaning back on the swing. I know he can feel this tension coming off me. He knows me.

"Violet" he says after a long pause, his voice softer now. "You sure you okay?"

I know he means well, he's genuinely concerned. He's like a second father to me for Christ sake. It's not his fault the past few weeks I've been keeping my distance from my dad and him. I mean I used to hang with my dad and Joel all the time, just enjoying their presence, joking with them every weekend- even if it was getting them beers and watching the rangers game.

"Yes just been workin lot" I murmur finally glancing up at him. That’s not a full lie, I’ve been working a lot at the bakery saving up to move out my parents. "Hmm" he huffs eyeing me down softly. "Well leave all that workin like a damn dog to your dad and me" he gently places his calloused hand on my knee. I tense slightly at the action not expecting it. I feel the air suck out of my lungs. I hope he didn’t hear me.

His hand gently rubbing my knee in a calming manner but it feels like my skin is on fire just from his touch.

"Okay" I breathe out in a breathless whisper. "Good girl" my bottom lip naturally finds my teeth again as my gaze instantly looks down at his praise.

"Joel! Get in here! I need someone to back me up on this !" My dad's voice booms shattering whatever the hell this moment is. I feel his gaze still on me for a beat longer before he squeezes my knee and stands to his feet "better go save him from himself" I can hear the chuckle laced in his voice. “Don’t stay out here too late, it’s getting chilly”

I smile to myself at his comment, it's known my dad usually will put his foot in his mouth especially with my mama. I watch as he goes back in the house.

I let out a shaky breath, I set my hand on my chest feeling it beat fast against it, hoping it’ll help settle my erratic heart. Good girl. His deep, southern draw still rings in my head.

"Get it together Violet. It's just Joel" I mumble to myself taking another deep breath. I shake off the nerves standing to my feet. My bare feet making the boards creak from underneath me and I open the screen door.

The smell of my mom's candles going and the voices of all three them going on about something stupid im sure my dad said.

"There's my girl" my dad's smiles, his eyes catching on mine. I look at the trio in the living room, my mom sipping on some wine sitting against my daddy. Joel sitting in his usual spot when he comes over, on the small love seat across them.

"Got a little chilly out there" I say softly. "Well get out that dress of yours and join us kid" my dad's says before turning his attention back to Joel. I glance at Joel really quick trying to steal a look but it seems his eyes are already on mine. I move my gaze quick and go up the stairs with a blush dancing on my cheeks.

This is just a quick draft of the first chapter..but id love feedback and/or ideas from you guys :)

Skylar xx

[aroaceleovaldez]

of the problems i have with TSATS, one of the sillier ones is... those star wars opinions are so bad. Will is supposed to be a huge star wars nerd but they're discussing it like they all only have the most cursory knowledge of the franchise. i'm not even into star wars but I cannot accept this.

funniest and more sensible options would be:

Will's favorite character is someone intensely obscure, like Karre or someone like that, and he will psychoanalyze and critique you on whatever your answer is to which Star Wars character you think is hottest. This information is SO important to him.

Kayla's is Kylo Ren because she's basic as hell (she knows this and is fine with it, she thinks it's funny) but also because Will hates that answer SO much and she thrives on tormenting her brother. He keeps begging her to pick literally anyone else.

Austin insists his favorite character is Weird Al Yankovic in his The Saga Begins music video and that it Totally Counts As Canon Trust Me. Will tentatively concedes on that one.

Inspired by him, Kayla's secondary answer is literally anyone from Spaceballs. Will also tentatively concedes on that one, because it is funny.

Nico's should be either Kylo Ren, because he's only slowly learning about the franchise through osmosis and appreciates Kylo's edgy aesthetic (and Kayla is encouraging it cause the answer annoys Will), or specifically Anakin to continue the jokes about Nico having a type.

Bonus points if Will is making him watch the franchise in canonical chronological order because Nico is one of the few people who doesn't know about Darth Vader, so Nico is just genuinely like "Yeah no I love Anakin's vibes he's cool :)" and it is taking ALL of Will's self-restraint to not spoil it for him.

[landoscaring]

landoscar fic masterlist

my amazing takes have garnered me a few new followers, so i thought i'd create a bit of a masterlist for the fics i've written for these two maniacs that perhaps you'd like to read, if you're so inclined (if not, that's okay! you can keep enjoying my frankly incredible takes, will buxton i am COMING for you in the cleanest of ways).

Edit: this started out small with just a few fics but now it's quite big, so, read below:

greet me with goodbye (completed, 3/3) (memory loss fic) (E)

Oscar is more than used to speed, for obvious reasons.

Speed has been a constant in his life, even as a child. His mom, embarrassingly, likes to tell people that as a kid he’d pretend to act like a car, revving up and down his house like a madman. He remembers his first karting competition, the confidence that flowed through his veins and the adrenaline of thinking he was the fastest 10-year-old to ever exist. He’s still confident, he has to be, in order to make it in this sport, but he’s had years to refine his technique, understand his car, and finesse his driving so he can achieve the speed he needs to win a race. His speed on track has earned him a spot in the most exclusive grid on the planet, a process that was fast-tracked itself when he made the move to McLaren, shocking the motorsport world as he did.

And yet.

a landoscar soundtrack (series) (4 parts/?)

we might as well be strangers (3/3) (what you need to know: oscar-moves-to-a-different-team-and-lando-has-feelings fic) (E)

Lando really should’ve known better than to get attached.

Scratch that.

He should’ve known better than to fall in love with a teammate. Again.

maps (1/1) (what you need to know: oscar is one jealous dude and has a lot of thoughts about it) (M)

Oscar’s never really thought of himself as a jealous person. His mom jokes that he’d been a pretty chill baby, and that even when his younger sisters came along, he never really fought for his parents’ attention, which at first worried his parents, afraid that he’d simply been building on his rage and would throw a fit eventually. But no, not really, Oscar had just been content with being there, watching the world around him with wide, observant eyes. So long as they let him read his car magazines and zoom around his house pretending to be a Ferrari, he was fine with having his younger sisters around.

only to live in your memories (1/1) (what you need to know: oscar yearns, lando flirts, it all comes crashing down at danny ric's wedding) (E)

“I think Ozzy here is not telling us something, mate,” George conspires, and Alex hiccups through a laugh before he stands, wobbly, and walks closer to where Oscar’s standing.

“Out with it, you rascal,” says Alex, hand aiming for Oscar’s shoulder but landing somewhere on his collarbone instead.

Oscar can’t help laughing at the ridiculous display in front of him and decides to simply accept his fate and tell them, as good-naturedly as he can: “Pretty sure he’s somewhere around here hooking up with Daniel’s sister.”

He’d thought his pals’ reactions would range from vulgar remarks to crude gestures, jokes at Daniel’s expense, that sort of thing. Instead, his announcement is met with drunk pity. They both look like they kicked a puppy, and the puppy is Oscar.

This is precisely why he’d been pretending to be drunk. So that they could maintain the guise of not remembering the next day and doing it all over again at the next wedding.

kisses (4/?) (what you need to know: post-race fics to heal or destroy, there is no in-between) (E)

chapter 1: zandvoort

chapter 2: monza

chapter 3: austin

chapter 4: mexico

never break the chain (4/5) (what you need to know: lando and oscar hate each other because of a racing incident when they were kids! but then they're teammates! oh no!) (E)

Zac looks at Lando, then at Oscar, and then back at Lando. “You need to sort this out, stat. I’m not having this –”

“What are you going on about? We’re golden, Oscar and I,” Lando bristles. “Practically besties, aren’t we, Osco?”

Lando knows using his old nickname for Oscar is a low blow, if his expression is anything to go by. But whatever. He’s fed up with this, and he wants Oscar as far away from him as possible, so if it hurts him, good.

Zac is turning red, and his mouth is opening, surely to remind Lando of his place, but Oscar beats him to it. He stands, inclines his head politely in Zac’s direction, and steps directly in front of Lando’s chair. His jaw is set, eyes cold. Lando has never seen him angry, had thought him incapable of it.

“I wasn’t expecting much, but I definitely thought you’d at least grown the fuck up,” he sneers. “Clearly, I was wrong. And for the record, you crashed into me. Thank you, Zac, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

secret's a blinking light (1/1) (what you need to know: fake marriage! oh no! lando needs to stay in australia what will oscar do!) (M)

So, he thinks he surprises himself and his sister Hattie and every single person he’s ever interacted with when he says, “I’ll marry you” to Lando Norris one Thursday afternoon in late May.

(He can blame it on George’s and Alex’s pestering, that.)

Lando seems surprised, too, but he recovers quickly.

como te vas (1/1) (what you need to know: lando eats oscar's choco bunny. oscar is looking for it. chaos ensues) (T)

Oscar, who’s pacing around the room with a confused expression adorning his face. His gorgeous, kissable face. Lando quickly forgets about the stupid fucking game and instead starts to plan his attack. He could launch himself from here, probably. Oscar would catch him. Or. Well. He could also fall flat on his face, and everyone knows that’s like, 78% of his whole charm or whatever. Anyway.

He calculates. Closes one eye. Turns his head sideways. Oscar’s still pacing the room, rummaging through the discarded clothing on the floor; the mess on his bedside table.

Lando rolls his eyes.

“Something missing?”

new romance (ilysfm) (3/3) (what you need to know: oh no they get accidentally married in vegas! but then they talk about it! it's cool!) (E)

There’s a beat of silence, and Lando just has to know, he needs to know, so he asks: “Do you remember anything?”

Oscar shakes his head slowly. He lifts a hand, then starts enumerating: “I remember the podium, debrief, hotel, taxi, club, Max, some horrible dancing, tequila –”

“That’s what I—,” Lando starts to say, relieved and disappointed at the same time, and then there’s a glint of something on Oscar’s hand, and instead he says, “fucking hell, what the fuck.”

Oscar splutters, his eyes darting around the room and across Lando’s body quickly in search of damage. “Wha—?”

“We’re both wearing rings,” and Lando’s head is spinning, but something tells him he’s right. “We’re in Vegas. We’re both wearing rings in Vegas, Oscar.”

i just want you for my own (1/4) (what you need to know: secret-santa-exchange-at -the-office landoscar! they are secretly in love! santa fixes it!) (M)

Los Boyos

Today

Georgie (affectionate) [12:03 PM]:

Hohoho, mateys.

Albonito [12:04 PM]:

? good afternoon?

Albonito [12:06 PM]:

…well go on george don’t leave us hanging mate

Georgie (affectionate) [12:07 PM]:

Apologies. Ocon needed some help with the printer.

Georgie (affectionate) [12:08 PM]:

just overheard lewis and seb in the lounge room. apparently nando wants the whole floor to partake in a secret santa exchange. details to come.

december '24 (or, a landoscar fever dream) (series, 4 parts)

Lando [12:09 PM]:

mint. is that the one were you steal peoples gifts i love that game

you know how to ball (i know aristotle) (1/1) (what you need to know: post wcc 2024, landoscar finally do something about it) (E).

Oscar tries not to stare at Lando as he moves through the crowd, at the graceful sway of his hips, the delicate set of his shoulders. He sees how he places his hands over people’s backs, shoulders, arms, head tipped back in delight, lips stretched thin in a smile that radiates self-assuredness and confidence. A finally. Someone reaches over to adjust Oscar’s cap and he grins in their direction, hoping they can’t see where his eyes had been. Andrea catches his eye on the way down, though, and there’s a glint there that lets Oscar know he’s been caught on. He laughs, shrugs one shoulder. Andrea rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face never falters.

it's night time (time to play) (1/1) (what you need to know: fia gala + plus one allegations +strip poker +mile high club) (E).

Oscar almost forgets about the whole thing until Lando messages him three days later, asking him what he’s up to.

Not much, mate, I think I’m still hungover.

lmao lightwait. did you think about my offer

What offer?

to come to ruanda with me

Oh. Right. So he hadn’t imagined that whole exchange.

Not sure I’m what they mean when they say you can have a plus one, Lando.

in your eyes (i see and feel it all) (1/1) (what you need to know: galex conspires to gift landoscar a padel date) (T)

wdym? your my mate

and you won the thing to like

plus ill be so bored osc come on

Friends, Lando thinks, are overrated.

His certainly are, anyway.

Specifically, those who think they’re being coy by setting him up on a padel date with his teammate. Whom they know he’s been in love with for the better part of the year. And who remains painfully clueless about the whole thing.

He’d approached him, at the end of the season, holding up his padel coupons from Alex with a hopeful, knowing glint in his eye. The news of their conspicuously identical secret santa gifts had traveled fast across the paddock. Max had laughed, loudly, and clapped a hand over Lando’s shoulder in what Lando thinks was his idea of commiseration. Maybe, Oscar had said, floppy brown hair blowing gently back in the Qatari air, once it’s warm back at home, we could…and Lando had nodded before he’d even finished the sentence.

He regrets that moment, thoroughly and completely.

there's a hole in you and me (that pulls us together) (1/1) (what you need to know: lando says oscar's name on stream) (M)

He listens to Max ramble on and complain about the lag, and soon enough they’re playing. Lando ignores the chat and focuses on the mission. But then the guy next to him, his partner, takes a wrong turn and Lando says, without thinking, “On the right, Osca—Connor, on the right.”

And yeah, he knows how that’s going to go. Max is quiet, but he sees him subtly shake his head at him. Lando double checks that he’s not needed and turns around to find Oscar looking at him from the bed, mouth quirked up.

“Did you just –”

Lando nods, sheepish. It’s not like they’re a complete secret, even. They haven’t exactly been quiet about it. Their friends know, and the team, too. But –yeah, it’s not public-public, yet.

[earthtokhal]

So I just watched the clip and I honestly don't think there's anything to panic about.

The question was weirdly worded, which I think was deliberately done to trick either Max or Yuki into giving away answers that they have been PR trained for.

I believe Max's answer was somewhat a combination of both. He was most definitely briefed on the situation hence the "even if it's his last race."

Max answered every possible follow up question in his one answer. He didn't leave room for "do you think he will be here in Austin?" Or "is he losing his seat?"

He also made it clear that while they have been team mates, they are friends and from BOTH perspectives, Daniel deserves to be here and that IF the curtain is closing then it will close with a lot of achievements most people might never achieve.

He also covered off the question that he's been asked a million times "do you think he regrets leaving red bull?"

I think while everyone was briefed by their PR (Yuki, Daniel, Max) this wasn't a completely PR answer. This was Max having an idea of what is being said and what he can't say so he was just responding to the general speculation.

Also, if we choose to ONLY go by what Max said and ignore everything else Daniel has said today, what are we saying about Daniel's word or position in the team?

I don't know how to feel about everything, I genuinely do not know whether it is good or bad, but from everything DANIEL has said today, the overall vibe is good. Let's not read too much into everything and over analyze.

I know it's easier said than done.

[grison-in-space]

Watching the new Alex Jones doc, which is heavy on the alt right response to Sandy Hook and the gun rhetoric that followed... so yeah I thought of when I was teaching during #GunFreeUT back in 2015 as a PhD student in Austin. I would have been about 25. When people came to my workplace and the state said that the students had been complaining* about how frightened they were to be away from their firearms for twenty minutes. When the entire campus was newly declared acceptable for open carry of ducking semiautomatic rifles. The undergrad who organized #CocksNotGlocks, who accurately pointed out that state obscenity laws banned sex toys in public to appeal to people's comfort and sensibilities, but would not consider such a thing for deadly weapons. As I recall, she drew massive waves of harassment from random people who were actual alt right adults with jobs and lives, not college students. I think she had to take a gap year.

*in fact the law was extremely unpopular among the UT Austin student body, most of who were horrified by having to confront the possibility of deadly weapons belonging to fuck only knows whom in not only their workplace but their homes.

I remember standing in a room for staff resistance through #GunFreeUT, the smell of the room, the texture of the cotton shirt I wore. The hastily organized attempts to carve out any freedom we could. The horrified stipulations about whether firearms could be kept out of classrooms themselves if not campuses (no), and the fretful whispers about what the state had declared about our offices, how we were going to be able to declare them gun free zones... If we agreed that students with concealed carry licenses could choose to meet with us somewhere where the gun was allowed to go. The group that announced it was going to celebrate its new open carry status by staging a school shooting on campus, the shooter of course to be played by a "good guy with a gun." The university announcing that they had interceded and made clear to the group that this re enactment could not take place, so they kicked the demonstration a couple of blocks away. Happened at a local gas station.

I was still seeing sad flyers from office staff and teachers saying things like PLEASE NO GUNS IN THIS SPACE when I graduated with my PhD in 2020, the first winter the pandemic was in full swing. I remember the texture of the paper the last time I saw it vividly. I catch myself starting to think about the campus school stabbing I would teach through in 2017 and any one of a hundred more rearguard final stands between the city and the state and—

Okay, that's where I got up and walked off to get a soda. You're getting me now after I've had a minute.

That's a classic PTSD flashback, in case you're wondering. At no time do my senses report anything to my mind about anything unusual happening in the room. At no time, while I remember these things, do I believe that I am currently in danger for my life. It's a strong, vivid memory, but only a memory.

But it's a memory that grabs you by the mind and shakes you. That's a flashback. It's a classic simple PTSD flashback as a consequence of fear and stress sustained over time. Other folks around me who think maybe PTSD or maybe cPTSD applies to you, if you're hung up on not thinking you get anything like flashbacks?

That's what a flashback is from the inside. Your brain is running over the memory of the thing that forever changed your estimation of safety. Just in case you might forget.

Just, you know. In case anyone is wondering.